


Here We Go!

by Anemones2Hydrangeas



Category: Batman - All Media Types, DCU, Super Sons (Comics), Superman - All Media Types
Genre: Adopted Sibling Relationship, Alternate Canon, Attempted Sexual Assault, Bad Parent Talia al Ghul, Body Horror, Boys doing stupid shit, Bruce Wayne is a Good Parent, Canon-Typical Violence, Comics Are Confusing, Complicated Relationships, Cute Kids, Damian Wayne Feels, Fanart, Feels, Fluff and Angst, Gen, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Is this a song fic? No but kind of?, Jonathan Samuel Kent Centric, Mild Gore, Mystery, Not Really Character Death, POV Alternating, Plot, Pre-Relationship, Slow Burn, Song: Once Upon a Dream (Disney), Superman is a Good Parent, The Author Regrets Nothing, The power of friendship, Tim Drake is Robin, Unrequited Love, everyone is trying their best, no beta we die like men, vague timeline
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-06
Updated: 2021-02-26
Packaged: 2021-03-02 02:46:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 49
Words: 467,222
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23507839
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Anemones2Hydrangeas/pseuds/Anemones2Hydrangeas
Summary: Jonathan Kent is a 7-year old boy who is unlike any other because he is the son of SUPERMAN! Even though this is a recent development in his life nothing can ruin the excitement of being related to the best superhero ever.Except for the really mean older assassin kid who talks kind of funny.Also, the fact that his father won't let him do superhero things.And the strange visions he's started to get.Really though, that's only three things stopping him from enjoying his life and becoming a superhero! Jonathan will do his best to make a new friend, become a superhero, and find the mystery of his visions!
Relationships: Clark Kent/Lois Lane, Damian Wayne & Healthy Relationships, Jonathan Samuel Kent & Constant Suffering, Jonathan Samuel Kent & Damian Wayne, Jonathan Samuel Kent/Damian Wayne, Superman & Batman - Relationship, Tim Drake & Jonathan Samuel Kent, Tim Drake/Kon-El | Conner Kent
Comments: 463
Kudos: 361





	1. Origin Stories

**Author's Note:**

> It's quarantine and I have way too much time on my hand since my university classes are online now so I'm writing this. The cannon will be inconsistent because I'm basing the timeline of this from every DC thing I ever watch/read and mashing it together. If you like the comics and are expecting this to make sense then you'll be sorely disappointed. Plus, Jonathan and Damian are 7 and 10 years old respectively so they are both much younger with all the negatives that will bring. Hopefully, someone will enjoy this. Also, there is art that I drew and my art is as inconsistent as my writing style so be prepared to cringe. Enjoy and leave reviews but please be polite.

It’s an almost magical thing to be born into a world that knows the safe embrace of Superman. It has come to light in the last couple of decades that the world, and the universe by extension, is a mysterious and dangerous place that is made better by the presence of an invincible symbol of peace and hope. Children born in this era of prosperity are subjected to a great number of hurdles in front of them such as supervillains, hostile alien invasions, and the occasional universal implosion. Even with all of the horrible things that could go wrong as long as the Man of Steel is still standing everyone on planet earth knows that they’ll be saved. 

It’s not a rare sight of kids in the streets or on blacktops singing nursery rhymes and playing games based on the triumphs of Superman, chanting praises for the man in red, blue, and yellow. Around every town in the United States, it would be easy to find people wearing the large red “S” and no one bats an eye at it. Even with this overwhelming presence that is Superman, he is still renowned as a modest man and a true hero above all else. With this nearly God-like hero living amongst them, it only makes sense that Jonathan Samuel Kent would become rather infatuated.

Seven-year-old Jonathan Samuel Kent is an average country boy whose parents work city jobs. The little boy lived in Hamilton County all of his life on a small little farm that he, his parents, and his dog Krypto take care of. His humble father, Clark Joseph Kent, quietly prepares for the day he can take over his parents’ larger farm in Smallville Kansas while his mother Lois Lane-Kent works hard as a Pulitzer winning journalist. Anyone that looks upon his small unassuming body with rumpled black hair, large bright blue eyes, and a pale that flushes scarlet would think that the youngest Kent was a normal boy. Jon thought so too and maybe that’s why he was so captivated by a hero larger than life.

The boy plays with one of his neighbor’s cats, or at least he thinks it’s his neighbor’s but the sweet old lady has a habit of feeding the strays, and the feral little shorthair was having none of it. Jon is not a quitter and has never been known for quitting even when it’s in his best interest so he pesters the feline more until it attacks him right on his neighbor’s front porch. The two have a clumsy battle, Jon screaming and pulling on the gray creature on his face while the cat scratches him in a fury of sharp claws. As the two’s fight gets more heated the front screen door opens as a frumpy elderly woman in a pink dress pulls the cat off of the poor boy who was clearly losing his battle. 

She puts the fluffy creature inside her home and addresses the boy with a high crackly voice. “Jonathan, what have I told you about trying to play with the cats around my house?”

“Uh… I dunno?” The boy states as he honestly doesn’t remember what she said about the cats. 

The woman rolls her eyes and hits him lightly in his leg commanding him to stand. “I told you that it’s dangerous. Not all kitties like being petted by children and you picked a fight with the wrong one.”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to.” Jon apologizes as he wipes dust off his Superman-themed shirt and jeans.

In the front of the woman’s yard, a man in mud-stained overalls, a messy cream shirt, and the thickest glasses this side of Kansas walks past the gate without asking and briskly jog up to the white wooden porch and checks the boy for injuries. “Jon, are you okay; what happened?”

“What happened is that your little boy was messing with my cats again. You got to keep a better eye on him, else he loses an eye to them, Kent.” The old woman says hitting the man’s shoulder with her cane harshly. 

“I’m so sorry Ms. Ruth, it won’t happen again.”

“It's better not because I might not be there to stop it next time. It’s sunset and I shouldn’t be wasting my valuable time to make sure I don’t have a corpse on my doorstep.” With that, Ms. Ruth slammed her door shut and left the two males outside to their own devices.

The older Kent lets out a huge sigh of relief and takes his son by the shoulder to lead him across the dirt road to a homely little farm that the boys liked to call home. Its true glory couldn’t be seen just by looking at it in the eyes of Clark Joseph Kent because to him it was so much more. The little white house in the middle of the small plot of land was covered in ugly patched jobs that didn’t quite match the paint, a few pens and a stable next to a bright red barn, and a tiny field that was filled to the brim with summer vegetables. It wasn’t the best or even the nicest farm in town but it was their little plot of home. Clark led the boy inside the rustic kitchen to seat Jon down at a rough wooden table and called up for his wife to grab the first aid kit.

Without even having to go down the stairs to look at the state of her son she shouts back, “Was he trying to play with the cats again?”

“Yep!” Jon’s father announces cheerfully, a bit too cheerfully for a man whose son lost to a baby kitten.

Loud rhythmic thumps from the rickety staircase announce the arrival of Lois Lane-Kent with a small but well used first-aid kit in hand. She sits down next to her son as she tends to the many wounds on his face and arms. The boy pulls away from the stings but his mother has a firm grip on his face keeping him still. “Jon, don’t move. I don’t want those wounds getting infected now.”

“Yes, mam.” He sheepishly pouts as he tries to keep still as the alcohol hurts him.

“And you Clark, weren’t you supposed to be watching him?”

Now it was the older man’s turn to feel sheepish as he avoided his wife’s gaze. “Sorry Lois, I got a bit distracted cleaning around the chicken pen.”

“Well, you smell like a pigsty and tracked mud inside the house.” The brunette scolds her husband as she lightly slaps his broad chest. “You better get changed before you dirty the entire house. Also, didn’t you say you had a surprise for Jon?”

This news causes Jon to gasp in joy because the boy loves surprises and begins to bounce in his seat. “A surprise?! What is it-OW!”

Lois takes a damp cotton pad away from his face as she glowers at him for moving so much while she treats his wounds. The black-haired child freezes to allow his mother to finish cleaning the scratches and begins to cover them up.

“It’s not much of a surprise if you go tellin’ ‘im ‘bout it, Lois,” Clark murmurs as he heads to the bathroom on the first floor, knowing his wife would murder him if he used the upstairs bathroom to clean the mud off.

“Oh hush, I didn’t tell him what it was.” She states lightheartedly as she finishes bandaging her son’s injuries. “Okay, done. Now if you want that surprise you’ll need to wait in the backyard for your father. He’ll be right over when he finishes cleaning up.”

“Can you give me a hint Ma, pleeeeeeeaaaaaassssseeeeeeee-”

“It's mom, and no hints.” She corrects because she refuses for her baby boy to have the same southern drawl as her spouse. She gets enough of it from her husband and might go insane if she has to hear it from her son. 

“Aw, why not?” Jon whines kicking his feet excitedly causing his chair to shake.

“Jon-”

“What if I guess and if I get it right you nod? You wouldn’t technically be telling me!”

“Jon-”

“Or maybe I can look for it! If I find it myself then you wouldn’t even have ta’ do anything! Is it the Monk-E-Monsters robot! I heard they were making a new one!”

“What? No, Jon-”

“Come on Mom! A hint wouldn’t be telling me would it?”

“Are you trying to lawyer me, young man?”

The stern tone his mother used caused Jon to halt his movements and meekly puts his arms in his lap. With an apologetic pout, the young boy whimpers out a quiet, “No mam.”

“Good, now get out back and wait for your Dad. I promise it will be worth it.” She emphasizes patting him on the back as he practically leaps out of his chair and out onto the tall grass of his backyard, gaining the attention of a white labrador who chases him eagerly. 

Jon runs around the expansive land as his dog, Krypto, pursues him. The boy sprints around in the open plains, the sun continues to disappear down into the horizon waiting for his father to come out of the house with his surprise. The pale boy gets tired of moving around and gazes upon the empty field of grass, barely making out the structures around him due to the disappearing daylight. He looks to the back deck of his house and sees his mom smiling lovingly at Jon as she leans against a wooden pillar in all her sweatsuit clad glory. She’s holding an old fashioned camcorder that Jon recognizes belonged to his grandparents pointed at him. The child makes a movement towards her but she holds her free hand out palm first in the universal stop motion. 

The boy quirks a thick eyebrow at the gesture because he didn’t really understand why his mom was telling him to stay out in the grass but she glances up and he suddenly feels a light smack on his head. He reaches up to feel metal and glass, recognizing the object as his father’s thick glasses. He ponders where it came from as there isn’t anything above him that his father could stand on to drop his lenses down. Did his father throw the glasses at him from the house? That would be weird and he doesn’t think his dad is strong enough to do that.

Jon looks up to find the source of the item when his jaw drops and eyes widen at the sight before him. He can hear Krypto barking cheerfully next to him, but the rest of the world seems to stop for the seven-year-old as he gazes upon a familiar but not so familiar man floating above him. The styled hair, blue suit, and flowing red cape would be enough for anyone to know who he was looking at but the information finally sets in Jon’s young mind the moment his blue eyes land on the famous scarlet S.

“Superman?” He whispers so softly as if he asks by mistake. There was no way that the Man of Steel, God among men, THE caped crusader himself was standing, floating, in front of him. There was no way and yet there he was smiling down upon him.

He laughs a deep laugh that came from the gut and lowers himself closer to Jon but not quite touching the ground. “Well you’re half right, but I think you’re forgetting something. Need a minute?”

The child hears a light chuckle coming from the direction of his mother and in an adoringly humorous tone shouts out, “You blew the kid’s mind enough, no need to make him think more!” 

“Aw come on Lois, let me have this. This is a once in a lifetime event. Don’t ‘cha got any fun in ya?”

“Hey, I'm having plenty of fun Smallville.”

Smallville. That’s the name of Clark Kent’s hometown and the nickname his mother calls him. Jon’s brain finally caught up to the reality of the situation and he shakes his head as he pushes the words out of his mouth. “Dad?”

“There we go,” Superman declares as he finally sets his feet on the ground and picks his son up. “Now I’m sure you have plenty of questions and while I am happy to answer all of them we best head back inside before someone sees.”

“We could have done this inside, but SOMEONE wanted a dramatic entrance.” Jon’s mom states turning off the recorder as she props the door open for her family.

“Yes, but once again: Once in a lifetime event.”

Jon’s mind was still reeling from the knowledge bomb his parents just dropped on him as his father carried him to the plush living room couch. As Jon sinks deeply into the cushions he watches his parents close all of the blinds and double-check the locks on the doors. The atmosphere, full of wonder and amazement a mere few seconds ago was quickly being dominated by an ever-present awareness about how serious the situation must be. 

His father was Superman the entire time and even the knowledge that his dad will officially win the My-Dad-Is-Cooler contest with all of his classmates won’t make the fact that this was hidden for so long go away. Why would his parents tell him now? Why didn’t they trust him enough to let him know before?

“Jon,” His mother catches his attention as she sits to his right, his father to his left, still in the red, yellow, and blue costume; the weight of his parents next to him causes the cushion Jon sits on to raise slightly. “ I know this is a lot to take in so if there’s anything you want to ask then feel free to. Your dad and I will do our best to answer everything but know that this doesn’t change anything.”

Jon’s father nods and puts a reassuring hand on his son’s small shoulder, made even smaller with the knowledge that it’s Superman’s hand. “I’m still your dad and no matter what I’ll always be Clark Kent. I’m not going to be a different person now that you know.”

“I…” Jon chokes out, staring at his father but stops to swallow a lump in his throat.

“It’s okay Jon, take all the time you need. If you don’t have any questions now you can ask later-”

“I’M THE SON OF SUPERMAN! HOLY CRAP-!”

“Language!”

“OH MY GOSH I’M THE SON OF SUPERMAN! WHAT THE HECK THIS IS AWESOME!” Jon screams jumping up and pacing back and forth on the living room rug. His parents let out a breath of relief and the tension in their backs melts away as they crash back onto the sofa. The two smiles at each other and hold their hands as they each prepare themselves for the parade of questions their child will certainly beat them with.

“Can you really lift an entire train?”

“Yep.”

“Laser vision?”

“Yep.”

“Can you breath in space?”

“Kind of. It depends but I can stay out there for a long amount of time without any help.”

“X-ray vision? What’s in my pockets?!”

“Yes, and you have 23 cents and a paper clip in your right pocket.”

“How far away can you hear? What are the neighbors saying right now?”

“I’m not eavesdropping on our neighbors Jon.”

“Can you at least tell me how many cats Ms. Ruth really has with your supervision?”

“She has 19 cats.”

“CLARK.”

“Hey, I didn’t need my powers for that one, I’ve just been keeping track.”

“Why do we live on a farm?”

“Your dad is a country boy who likes it.”

“Are Grandma and Grandpa also super?”

“They’re super to me but they’re normal humans.”

“What about Kara?”

“She’s Supergirl.”

“I’M THE COUSIN OF SUPERGIRL!”

“Yes, yes you are.”

“Do I have powers because unless mom is Superwoman then I’m only half Super- IS MOM SUPERWOMAN!?”

“No, your mother is not Superwoman. That’s Aunt Lana.”

“SUPERWOMAN IS MY AUNT! Wait… KRYPTO IS A SUPER DOG! He was on TV and I didn’t even notice!”

“Yes, they are and to answer the question about if you have any powers that’s why I decided to tell you about Superman.” The tall man stands up from the couch and goes over to pat his son on the head to get him to stop moving around. “Jon your mother and I never wanted to tell you that I was Superman.”

“What?! Why not-”

The brunette woman kneels on the floor so that she could speak with her son at eye level and engulf him in a tight hug, “It’s not that we wanted to keep secrets from you but the life of Superman is a dangerous one. Even being around Superman puts us in danger and we wanted you to live a normal life for as long as we possibly could. Sadly we can’t keep protecting you from this secret for any longer.”

“Why?” He’s glad that they told him but now Jon is worried that something terrible occurred.

Clark kneeled, keeping his hand reassuringly on his son’s head, to look him in the eyes as he explained. “The main reason is that as you get older it gets harder to keep you away from the dangers of my job. We moved to Hamilton County away from Metropolis when you were born because it was far away from the influence of many villains and more importantly Superman. Unfortunately for us, our son became a little Superman fanatic.”

Jon looks submissively away and to the shiny red shoes of his father’s uniform at the information. “Is this about my room?” He asks as he remembers how his current room is practically a mini Superman shrine filled to the brim with posters, toys, bedding, and clothes for his father’s image. It must be embarrassing for Clark Kent to go into his own child’s room to be met with his symbols everywhere.

A hearty and bellowing laugh reply to his question and the man softly jabs his finger to the symbol on Jon’s current attire. “No, no, no this isn’t about that. Honestly, I’m flattered I’m your favorite hero.” 

“Clark.” His wife chastises with no serious bite in her tone. 

The man in question wipes a bright tear from his eye and dawns back on his somewhat serious face for the occasion. “Oh, right. We knew that if we didn’t tell you one day you would eventually find out on your own. We would prefer that it be us that tells you so that we can answer everything fairly.”

“Was I close to finding out?” The child asks rolling on the balls of his feet at the thought that he might have been close enough to figure out the biggest secret in the whole wide world. To be honest Jon never suspected a thing so that idea seems astronomically absurd to him.

“We had a few close calls but there is another reason we tell you now rather than later.” the man admits turning Jon’s head to look at both his parents. “Along with hiding you from my life and villains we were also hiding you from the Justice League.”

This statement shocked Jon to his core as he knows for a fact that the Justice League is full of the world’s best superheroes. There is no way that good and astounding heroes could possibly want to hurt him in his mind. “Bu- But the Justice League is full of heroes! They won’t hurt me!”

“No, they wouldn’t but there has never been anyone like you Jon and people are scared by what they don’t understand. They want to run some tests on you-”

“TESTS?! But I’m bad at those!” The boy shouts remembering the last test he took before summer break started two months ago; it did not go well at all if the sad rain cloud sticker was anything to go by.

Lois snorted at her son’s reaction and Clark rolled his eyes at her response. He straightens his back and puts on a more grave tone as he tries to reveal to Jon the gravity of the situation. “Not like a school test Jon but a medical exam. They want to see if you’ll develop powers and are getting a bit restless about knowing. Human DNA and Kryptonian DNA isn’t really compatible so the fact you exist is a scientific marvel. No one knows what you’re capable of or if you’re even capable of anything, but your mother and I didn’t want to find out by making you an experiment.”

Jon doesn’t really know what a ‘scientific marvel’ is but to his brain it makes his existence sound really impossible. “How was I born then?”

“Uuuuhhhh…. Hey, do you want to meet Batman?” Superman chokes out in a quick attempt to change topics. Clark Joseph Kent is many things but a sex-ed teacher he is not. He can feel his wife’s beautiful lavender eyes bore into the side of his head as he avoids her gaze. He is well aware that if she had his laser vision he would be wasted on their rustic rug. 

“I GET TO MEET BATMAN!?” Jon shrieks into his parents’ ears, causing them to flinch, as he immediately forgets all the questions he wanted to ask. Who in their right minds would draw out a conversation when they could be meeting Batman?

“Yep, we can go right now if you get changed into some clean clothes.” He says standing up rapidly and leading the boy up the stairs next to them. 

Jon sprints up the stairs as he continues to be excited and asks, “THIS IS THE BEST DAY EVER! CAN YOU FLY ME THERE!?! Pleasepleasepleasepleasepleasepleasepleasepleasepleasepleaseplease-”

“Sure thing.” The man promises as he watches the kid disappear past the top steps. A tap on his left shoulder alerts him to Lois’s presence and he gathers his courage to look at the woman, who as her arms crossed, in her eyes.

“Real smooth Superman.” She remarks as she scowls her eyes before relaxing to her normal happy demeanor. “You might be the Man of Steel but your balls might as well be made of cotton.”

“He just finished first grade, I don’t want to have to explain the birds and the bees to him.” The spandex-clad man excuses to get rid of the brunette’s judgmental eyes.

“Hey, I’m not saying I wouldn’t do the same thing but Batman? You drop the biggest surprise of his life on him and then you go take him to see Batman? We can’t live up to that much excitement! Birthdays, Christmas, and every other event will never live up to this and he’s only seven!” She bemoans throwing her hands up in the air as all of their future present planning has gone up in flames.

Clark, relieved that she wasn’t angry over the last-minute decision for different reasons, holds his wife gleefully and smothers her worries. “We still have Wonder Woman, the Flash, Green Lantern, Hawkgirl, Martian Ma-.”

“I get it, but it will still never beat him finding out his dad is Superman.”

“True, he might never be this excited again but at least we have it on video.”

“Yeah, we’ll always have the video. Speaking of which I have to go and figure out how to convert old-fashioned tape recordings to DVDs.” Lois remembers as she moves back into the living room and picks up the camera. “This would be so much easier if I could just use my phone.”

“I understand but we can’t risk-”

“We can’t risk someone hacking into our devices I know. Still doesn’t mean I can’t complain about it.”

He kisses his wife on the lips and wraps his arms around her waist. “If it did stop you I’d be legitimately worried about your health.”

“Are you trying to be charming Smallville?” She scoffs leaning in for another kiss.

“Are you guys done being gross?” A small and impatient voice calls out below them causing the couple to slowly part from each other. This makes them laugh at the frowning face, still covered in baby fat, as he hastily waits to leave. 

Jon is unsurprisingly dressed in a similar Superman-themed shirt, readjusted his father’s glasses on top of his head, and added a bright red cape to his attire that they won at last year’s county fair. Lois gives her son’s messy hair an affectionate rub as she kisses him on the cheek. “Now we’re done being gross. Jon, when you meet everyone remember to be polite. Batman has a big family and I expect you to mind your manners.”

“You mean Robin? That’s like one guy.”

Superman chortles at his son’s statement and elects to prepare Jon for what he might run into. “Batman has three sons, a butler, and a daughter. Some of them don’t live at his home but they might be visiting.”

“So he has four kids?” The little caped crusader ponders aloud holding his chin in thought. “Are any of them my age?”

Lois pipes up to answer Jon’s question while she moves to go to her room upstairs. “Their youngest is fifteen for now.”

“For now?”

“Knowing Batman I wouldn’t be surprised if he adopted another child by now.” She jokes stopping as she waves to her boys. “I’ll see you in the morning. I’m going to hit the hay for tonight.”

“You’re not coming with us Mom?” Jon asks as his father scoops him into his arms and sits his son on his forearms. 

“Me? No, I’m going to stay here and relax, but I’ll happily listen to you tell me about it when you get back. Bye Jon, bye Clark. I better see my baby safe when he gets home. ”

“I promise that not even a hair on his head will be harmed,” Superman promises with a quick kiss on his wife’s lips. “I’ll be home before 12:00.”

Superman flies out through the back door, Jon getting a quick, “Bye Mom!” as he’s whisked away into the distance to meet batman during the best night of Jon’s life so far.

Damian Al-Ghul was ten years old when he finally beat his mother in single combat with the promise to know the name of his father, the only man outside his family worthy enough to gain the graces of his grandfather and mother. From the time he was able to hold a blade he has been given morsels of information about the man whose genetics carries. His mother, Talia, would sing praises about how much of a skilled fighter he was when pushed enough before reprimanding Damian for his insolence. His grandfather, Ra’s Al-Ghul leader of the League of Assassins, would praise the man’s cunning mind, but hint at a level of disdain and disappointment at his past student.

Knowledge of his father was only supposed to be a prize Damian worked for as his skills as a human weapon were honed to be equivalent to a finely sharpened blade. His body is polished to peak levels that no man before or since should be able to achieve for the sole purpose of killing his enemies, and his enemies are those who dare oppose the League. It was just knowledge and nothing more. He expected to get the name of a great warrior and then never have to think about it again and find a new objective to work towards to better motivate him in his quest.

The moment he held the blade to his mother’s neck, drawing a drop of blood from her fallen form he knew he had won. She presented him with a grin that didn’t provide any genuine emotion and nodded at him to tell him that the time has come to know of his father. She caressed the side of the tan boy’s still soft face and looked him in the eyes as she uttered his father’s name.

Bruce Wayne, the Bat.

A nocturnal beast of the night that hides in the dark draws many myths to itself for its secretive nature: This is the creature that represents his father. Damian nods, satisfied with this information and goes to return to his prior training as if nothing happened with only the thought of his next goal in mind.

“Son, what are you doing?” His mother asks him as he puts away his katana and exchanges it for a bo staff. She takes the metal staff from his possession and places it back on the weapon rack before Damian could give her his answer. The boy raises a slender brow curiously but never questions his mother’s actions. He learned better than to ever question the woman who raised him.

“I was about to continue my training while there is still sun left to burn in the sky.” He replies curtly looking up at the woman with his green eyes.

Talia quirks her lip up and swipes her long chestnut-colored hair out of her face as she holds Damian’s back as she moves out of the training room. He follows her down the corridors of their home until she stops in front of his room door. “I expect you to be ready by the time I knock.”

Damian doesn’t question her as he knows what she means. He enters his room and doesn’t bother scanning the area as he knows his domain like the back of his hand. He knows he has little time to change and pack so he makes sure to grab the best weapons and clothes. He adorns himself in one of his finest attire that is similar to his grandfather’s traditional garbs. There is no time to bring any of his technology or spare blades, but he does make sure to grab a handful of oils, charcoals, brushes, and sketchbooks. He shoves everything into the largest duffle bag in his possession and stands at attention facing his door to await his mother’s knock as he has learned to never go out too early.

The moment he hears her slender fingers rap against the thick wood of his door the ten-year-old swiftly opens the door and allows himself to be led to a plane at the edge of Infinity Island, the only home he’s ever known. He thought he wasn’t supposed to leave, yet here he was on his way to meet his father wherever he may be on this large planet. His mother commands him to kill the attendant as she tells him the excursion is supposed to remain a secret from everyone, even his grandfather, and he does so without question.

Without hesitation, he snaps the neck of the servant after they put his luggage onto the vessel, sticks a blade cleanly through their chest, and dumps the body into the ocean below him. His mother nods her head in approval and embarks while Damian cleans his knife. Talia holds her hand out and Damian delivers her the handle blade used to only seconds earlier. She sighs disappointedly as she drops the weapon on the cockpit floor, baffling the boy greatly as he thought he did exactly what his mother wanted, and reaches for his hand.

The gesture confuses him because the Arabic woman never as much gave him a pat on the shoulder let alone held his hand. Looking at his mother in the pilot seat of a plane as she clings to his hand fills him with a feeling he rarely feels but is all too intimate with;

Fear.

He doesn’t see any change in his mother’s stoic demeanor, but the action itself tells Damian all he needs to know. He doesn’t know what she is so afraid of whether it be seeing her beloved again or something else he isn’t aware of, but he doesn’t need to know anything. He just has to be prepared.

He doesn’t know if it’s his nerves or a desire to ease his mother’s tension but Damian decides to ask his mother more about the man he was about to see. He might as well be bracing himself with knowledge for what he will encounter when they get to their destination. Talia holds her son’s hand a bit tighter as she addresses him while never looking away from the view ahead of her. 

“My beloved is a powerful man, but you know that already my son. He was my father’s student over a decade ago and he was his most promising pupil. He would have made such a wonderful assassin.”

“And yet from the way grandfather speaks of him it’s obvious he’s a traitor.”

“Hold your tongue child.” His mother spits and takes away the affection of her hand as punishment. Damian couldn’t help to feel regretful for his transgression as such a small action hurt more than any lashing he has ever received. 

“Yes, Mother.”

Even with the more distant attitude around them, the beautiful woman continued to speak. “He left the league as he is stubborn to our ways. He would never be one of us as there is no such thing as an assassin that doesn’t kill.” Damian wants to push for more information about the sheer audacity of one who would train with the League not being able to take a life but he has already pushed his mother enough for the day. “He wanted to help the world in his own way and returned to his home in a miserable city in America called Gotham. It is a desolate and filthy place that anyone in their right mind would abandon, but the people of that city are not normal. Gotham feasts on misery, greed, and malice. Those born there are desperate to die there and your father is no different. My beloved is truly a fool.” 

She sounds so hateful when he hears her talk about Bruce Wayne when all Damian has heard before about the man was adoring praises from her lips. The juxtaposition of Talia’s tone renews his interest in his father and while he never planned to meet the man he is curious to see what kind of man is able to bring so many emotions out of someone the child has always seen as unmoving.

The rest of the ride is overshadowed by a cloud of silence. Damian doesn’t know how long they were flying for, but he can conclude that it’s been several hours if the setting sun is anything to go by. The plane enters a smog of pure pollution and Talia prepares to land the aircraft while she instructs her son to sneak away with his valises. The plane is silently hidden in the murky ocean waters below when the two make a move to run away into the expanding shadows of Gotham. The entire city smells like raw sewage and ash with crime around every corner, yet he still sees people out and about on the city scene.

His mother is right as always, these people are not normal.

They reach a mansion on the hill the moment the sun disappears from the horizon. The manor is like a beacon in the dark, an oasis in the desert, in the dark city. It was nothing compared to the palace inside the mountains on his home; this mansion was kilometers above the poverty that surrounds it.

The boy was inside the trees behind the manor preparing to sneak in along his mother when she knocked loudly on the window several feet above him giving away their presence and location. Damian looks incredulously at the woman but a firm glare from her deadly purple eyes silences him. The ornate windowpane opens to reveal a stocky man in his late teens or early twenties wearing a grey form-fitting t-shirt, fiery blue-green eyes, and messily slicked back black hair with a white stripe in the front. He scans the area for mere seconds before letting out the most exasperated sign Damian has ever heard.

“God fucking damn it, don’t drag me into your shit again Talia. I’m trying to study for my history exam!”

“How dare you speak to my mother that way, reached heathen! I should cut out your tongue for such impertinence!” The child shouts at the man’s utter brazenness he refers to his parent. 

The man’s eyes widen at his voice and look at Damian then back to the daughter of the Demon repeatedly before he steps back and widens the entrance to his room. Talia motions her son to follow her inside and as he steps into the room the man closes the window behind them.

“Is that… Holy shit.” He gasps pointing at Damian’s entire being with disbelief before breaking out into a fit of laughter. “HOLY SHIT! How th- Hahahahahaha Oh my God! I knew Bruce was a playboy and everything but to think- waitwaitwaitwaitwait, I NEED to tell him! Where is my phone? Does Bruce know?”

“No.”

“Oh damn! I need to be there to see his reaction! Where is my phone, I have to record this! Can I be there when you tell him?” Damian, tired of the stranger’s mocking, bites the finger stretched out to him and draws his blade. The young man recoils away from the child with his now injured hand. “Jesus fuck he’s feral! The little demon just fucking bit me!”

“You deserve worse, be lucky I showed you mercy and allowed you to keep your finger,” Damian states, turning his nose up at him. “I might forgive you if you stop your meaningless ramblings and give my mother what she desires.”

“Yeah, sure kid. I’m a good foot or two taller than you and I can probably punt you out the window.” He says putting on a solemn demeanor before turning to the woman who has been mostly silent since she arrived. “I’m guessing you want me to take you to see him?”

“Yes, I do Todd but you need to stay out of the conversation for this is between me and my beloved.” She commands flipping her long hair back and crossing her arms as she waits to be escorted. 

The man lets out another long sigh and runs his hand through his hair as he gestures for the two to follow them. As they walked through the large expansive hallways he noticed his mother fixing up her appearance in the mirrors hung on the walls around them. Talia pushes the dust off her black leather suit, straightens her hair with her finger, and turns to her son to clean the grime he had somehow accumulated by merely being in Gotham for more than five minutes off his face. All of her actions were fluid and subtle, but to Damian, Talia might as well be frantically panicking as he watches her make them more presentable.

The three enter a dark cave through a clock and are immediately greeted by an elderly man wearing a fine suit top the staircase. He gestures for the man to leave, causing him to shout down into the cave, “ROBIN YOU BETTER HAVE A CAMERA READY!” and storming back to where he came from. 

“I apologize for Master Jason’s rudeness, Batman has been expecting you.”

The servant’s statement surprises Damian, but his mother doesn’t look phased at all. If anything she appears to have expected it. The man leads them down a narrow and winding staircase before it opens up to a vast and almost endless cave filled with unusual artifacts, the most prominent one bringing a statue of a dinosaur. At the base of the cavern is the largest computer Damian has ever laid his eyes upon and at the base is a man in armor clearly designed to emulate a bat.

This man must obviously be his father.

Damian can see the similarities in his feature even with the cowl the man wears. They both have a defined jawline, nearly similar skin color (Though Damian is a shade or three darker), and he can feel that they give off similar auras. The man stands from his metal chair and moves towards them, towering over Damian. His gaze pierced into the ten-year-old as he takes in the sight of the young Al-Ghul before he turns to the child’s mother with a deep exasperated voice. 

“Talia.”

“Beloved.”

Damian stands strong and tall, holding his blade in his hand but keeping it in its sheath, to look the man in his eyes because he refuses to be intimidated by anyone. The Batman notices this and returns his attention to the boy, the sheer force of personality causing Damian to avert his gaze and enraging him. 

“I thought you’d be taller.” He mocks quickly to make his moment of weakness appear as indifference as an attempt to gain back some control of the situation he’s in.

The man sighs in a similar fashion to the young man in the manor and addresses Talia again. “Is this what I think?”

“You don’t have to think as you already know who he is.”

“How long have you kept him from me?”

“Today is his tenth birthday.”

His father is conflicted under that mask of his but the reason precedes him. His parents have been doing multiple new things he doesn’t understand, but he knows better than to show his ignorance. He peers around the cave again as his parents converse and notices, next to his father’s chair, is a teenage boy who didn’t look a day over fourteen but carries himself like an adult. His mid-length neat black hair brushes the undersides of his ears and he wears a mask that covers his eyes in the same glassy white his father’s mask does but that’s not the most conspicuous thing he sees.

The boy is wearing the most shamefully garish outfit Damian has ever been unfortunate to behold in his entire life and is offended that he didn’t notice him earlier. The torso is a bright red while his limbs are covered in shiny green, and to finish it off a neon yellow cape covers his back. There were accents of black but it did nothing to tone down the outfit. If any assassin in their right mind were to wear that they would be beheaded on sight if not immediately killed in the field. The boy notices his judgmental gaze and walks over to him, much to Batman’s clear concern. 

“Robin-” His father begins to say but the youth doesn’t stop moving until his slender form is within stabbing distance to Damian.

“Batman, I think it’s best if we do some tests before we proceed with any actions.” He suggests in a flat robotic tone, sizing up the alleged son of Bruce Wayne.

“Are you doubting my skills?” The child spits out with fury as he uncovers his blade halfway to prepare for battle.

“If you’re doubting his lineage then, by all means, run as many tests as you desire beloved, but you’ll be wasting your time as he is the manifestation of the best of both of us,” Talia says pushing her son towards the two.

The three look at each other in a silent contest of wits to see who would speak first. Damian turned his head around to await orders from his mother but she just stood there watching him with a hand on her hip. He took that as a sign and proceeded to introduce himself to his father, the only man worthy of his mother.

“I am Damian Al-Ghul, the Demon’s son, heir to the Al-Ghul name, and now heir to the mantle of the Batman.” He proclaims confidently as he puts away his armament.

The brightly colored teenager raises his brows at the last statement and looks to the older man for guidance about how to proceed. His father leaned his head down and pinched the bridge of his nose as if to quell a headache. He pushes back his cowl and Damian is able to see that he truly is the son of the man before him. The hairline, his eyes, the shape of the man’s nose are all representative of the man before him.

“Bruce Wayne, Batman.”

The teen is quick to follow the man’s lead viewing how swiftly Batman was to reveal his face to the child. He took off his mask to expose blue eyes a similar shade to the man next to him but obviously not related due to the contour. “Timothy Drake-Wayne, Robin.” He says and sticks out a hand for the youngest to shake.

The utterance of the Wayne name infuriates Damian as he just declared himself as the heir of Batman yet this worm before him introduces himself as his father’s son. “There will be no need for you anymore as I am clearly the true son here,” Damian asserts slapping the palm away with all his might. “A false heir is no longer required.”

Tim grimaces at him and pulls his hand away, but gives him a supercilious smile that grates against his nerves immensely. The black-haired teen bellows out a short scornful laugh and assures him, “If that’s what you think then you’re in for a rude awakening.”

“What-”

“I’m the youngest of B’s kids so you’re really far from heir status even if Batman did work that way. How does it feel to be at the bottom of the totem pole brat?”

Damian shook in rage and moved to stab the inferior male before him but was stopped by his father, who held his bare blade with a gloved hand. Bruce turns to look at the oldest son in the room with a disappointed grimace, “Robin, we don’t antagonize others, especially those who are ready to kill you.”

“Since when?”

“Robin.”

The boy rolled his eyes before putting his mask back on and stood back to allow Batman to disarm the little boy. Damian is caught off guard when his katana is taken from him as if he were a baby with no skills with a weapon. His mother’s beloved truly is as skilled as she has informed him. The man confiscates the blade and hands it to his other son to secure it in an undisclosed location. When Tim scurries off with his weapon Damian goes to chase after him but is held back by a familiar strong hand.

His mother pulls him back and throws his duffle bag at his father. “We need to talk about our son.”

“Why now?”

“That’s what we need to talk about,” Talia explains leaning up against his father’s broad chest muscles. “Why don’t we go somewhere private to discuss this?”

Before Bruce could say anything they hear laughing coming from a different entrance of the cave before a flash of red and blue clouds their vision. As if out of thin air a dominatingly masculine figure floats above them holding a laughing child in similar attire on his back. The boy looks around the lair with wonder in his large deep blue eyes while the man finally takes his attention off the little boy in his arms to the people in the room.

“Hi! I’m Jon!” The child greets with a warm smiling and even warmer tone. “Are you Batman?!”

Batman, in all his knowledge, skill, and experience looks between the two literal children in his lair with an expressionless face. He inhales deeply, not saying a word in the now disturbingly quiet atmosphere, then sighs the longest most exasperated sigh in the world. He covers his eyes with his hands to drag it down his face as he knows that there is no point in working at this point because tonight was going to be a complete disaster. 


	2. Chaos Theory

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jon and Damian finally meet it's not a good time, but Jon is never one to give up. Good things are not afoot but it's the start of something. Good or bad no one knows.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Damian, before spending time with his family, was kind of a little murderous shit and it reflects with how he treats this younger version Jon this chapter. Also, I'm inconsistent with events because IDK how everyone's ages and timelines work so imma be vague about it. Feedback is welcomed and I hope you enjoy it!

“Hey, Bru-... Batman? Uh…” Superman begins to greet but stops when he realizes that they’re not alone. His eyes move side to side between everyone in the room and already begins slowly flying backward, hiding his son under his cape, before he gets his answer. 

Batman holds his palm out and curls his fingers inward to call the man back over. The superhero reluctantly flies back to his friend with a bewildered expression on his face. Clark’s grasp on his son tightens when the older Al-Ghul’s attention is focused on him and he addresses the other man in the room. “Uh… Batman? Are you sure you don’t want me to leave? This seems like a private matter.”

“What is the alien scared of me?”

“Excuse me?” The Man of Steel blurts out to the rude child glaring at him.

“You heard me; unless those rumors of your super hearing are greatly exaggerated, Alien.”

Batman lets out another loud sigh and pinches the bridge of his nose again. “I apologize for his behavior Superman-”

“Father, you do not need to apologize for me-”

“I’m sorry did he just say father?”

“BATMAN IS YOUR DAD! Does that mean your Robin?” Jon blurts out sticking his head out of the cape as if it were a blanket but his vision is still obstructed. “My Dad is Superman! My Mom told me that Robin was fifteen which is really old but you don’t look like a big kid. I mean you look like a big kid but not that big-” Superman covers his son’s face again with his cape but the little boy doesn’t get the hint and keeps talking through the fabric. “Unless fifteen isn’t that big or maybe you’re just short. I thought Robin wore more red.”

“He does wear more red.” Tim Drake-Wayne announces as he graces them with his presence again. “And I’m Robin, not him.”

The small child pokes his head out again to look at the newcomer and grins widely. “You do wear pants!”

The teen stops in his tracks and Jon registers an exasperated sigh coming from Batman as the words leave his mouth. Not noticing the tense atmosphere in the room Jon continues his enthusiastic ramblings. “The newspaper clippings some of my classmates showed me made it look like you don’t wear pants sometime-

“THAT WASN’T ME!” The teen yells embarrassingly.

“I know that now. My Dad told me that on the way here. He told me that all of his sons were Robin at some point. I was beginning to think that maybe he was like, really old, but I guess you aren’t super old; just kind of old.”

This is news to Damian as he had assumed, due to his lack of prior knowledge about Batman being withheld from him, that Robin was just another stupid superhero codename. He was wrong and realizes that Robin is a mantle and its own right of passage that all sons of Bruce Wayne must undergo to be accepted. Is this why his mother has brought him to his father when he finally beat her in combat? He had already proven himself worthy of the Al-Ghul name but of the Wayne name has yet preceded him. If all of Batman’s sons must become Robin to be recognized by Batman then Damian knows what he must do:

He must become Robin.

He knows that his mother is planning on leaving him in his father’s care for an undisclosed period of time so it would only make sense that she expects him to continue his training under a new master. His mother has already taught him everything he knows and now it is time to move on to the next level. He stares up to Talia and she is already giving him an affirming look, knowing the thoughts her son is working through. He looks away from her gaze and scans the cave with this newfound understanding. In glass cases at the top of a platform in the opposite direction of the entrance are different uniforms. Some are different versions of the Batman armor but he also sees two different brightly colored costumes similar to the one that the insolent teenager is wearing. There’s no mistaking that those must belong to the previous two Robins.

Damian is about to rush his “brother” and challenge him for the mantle of Robin but a heavy black-gloved hand stops him, knowing what Damian is about to attempt. The man scowls and shakes his head at the boy before addressing the older son in the room. “Robin, take him to a closed-off room in the manor while Talia and I talk.”

Superman pipes up, raising his hand like a proper boy scout, and asks, “Br- Batman, I hope you don’t mind me asking but are you sure you want me to stay?”

“I need to take a blood sample from… The boy and it would be good to have a lie detector here. This shouldn’t take long.” Batman explains heading to his chair and sits down, hunched over in thought.

“Yeah, sure. How about we do the test after she leaves?” He says pointing to the terrifying assassin in the room.

“What, do you expect me to do it while she’s watching?”

“No, I just want to make sure.”

“Hm,” Bruce hums in his signature Batman fashion. “Robin, take Jon to the playroom while you’re-...BOYS!”

The shout draws everyone’s attention to the two sons of Batman who were grappling each other at the edge of the cave. Damian, in the 10 seconds no one was watching, put his elder brother in a chokehold over the closest ledge of the cavern. Robin meanwhile had one leg tightly grabbing the child’s back ready to take him down with him if Tim were to fall.

“He started it!” Both boys roared blaming each other for the infraction that happened. 

“Son.” Damian’s mother commanded her child’s attention and with the utterance of that single word, the boy drops his brother safely onto the ground, and not into the dark abyss. She fondly shakes her head and smirks at her son. “You should have used the environment to your advantage and made sure he would have landed on a stalactite and not into the unknown. Have I taught you nothing?”

“I apologize, mother, that was the original plan but I did not expect him to fight back with the skill he possesses and only had a few seconds. I underestimated him. It will not happen again.”

“The fact that it happened once is unforgivable.”

“Yes, Mother.”

Bruce watches the short interaction between the duo with an angry expression and looks to Robin again who has recovered and stood up. “Robin, take Damian to the room and make sure he doesn’t escape. He’s too dangerous to be around, so I’ll have Alfred take the child to the playroom.”

“Got it B.” The teen responds as he holds Damian’s hands behind his back and hauls him up the stairs; the two fightings each other the whole way there.

Alfred carefully takes Jon away from his father’s arms, Clark kissing his son on the head before letting go, and heads up the staircase. As soon as the butler closes the entrance behind him Jon is in awe at the setting before him. The home looked to be a real castle similar to the ones he’s seen in his old storybooks. He’s even more astounded that he’s being carried around by a real butler.

“Hi! My name is Jonathan but it’s long so everybody calls me Jon. What’s your name mister? Are you a real butler?” The seven-year-old greets remembering his manners just like his mother told him to.

The old man chuckles at the boy’s enthusiasm, readjusting the grip in the young Kent, and answers him. “Hello, my name is Alfred Pennyworth young Jonathan. I sure do hope that I am a real butler and not a fake one.”

Jon laughs at the small joke the man made and asks him questions. “That’s funny! You talk funny? Where are you from? Where are we? Is this a castle? Is Batman royalty? Where are the other butlers? Are there maids around here too? Do they all wear suits? I wanna suit bu’ not a butler one. I wanna superhero one just like my dad! Kids can have them too right? Robin gets a superhero costume so that means I can get one too right? Who makes them anyway because they don’t look like something at the Halloween store? That other boy was wearing some funny clothes too, is that a costume? Is he a hero like Robin because if he’s the son of Batman he must be?”

Alfred smiles at the genuineness of the child in his arms and does his best to answer all of his innocent questions. “Well, Mister Jon, I am from London England which is very far away from making my accent British. We are currently in the Wayne family manner which is not a palace by any means nor is anyone in the Wayne family royalty. I am the sole servant to the Waynes that works here so technically speaking all the servants do wear suits as I always do. Regarding your desire for a costume and where to procure one that is something to ask your father, but I do say your current attire is ‘super’ enough for a boy your age.”

“The other boy is not a superhero and that is all I will say about young master Damian. Now, we have arrived in the playroom.” Alfred says as he puts Jon down in a room full of old toys. The room is surprisingly small compared to the rest of the manor as it isn’t bigger than Jon’s room at his home but makes up for it being lined to the brim with all kinds of trinkets from robots to wooden horses. “I do apologize for the state of the room and the age of the toys in the room. I am afraid that this place hasn’t gotten any use in many years.”

Jon spins around, overwhelmed by the number of things to play within the room, that he gets dizzy and nearly falls over. The butler holds him steady, smiling at the childlike wonder in the boy’s eyes that he hasn’t seen in so long. While Jon gets his bearings Alfred heads to the door and closes it halfway. “If you would excuse me for a few moments, I need to go check on the other occupants in the manor then I shall return to entertain you. Please do not leave this room and if you need anything just call and I will be right over.”

“Okay, Mister Penny... Uh…”

“Pennyworth.”

“Okay, Mister Pennyworth!”

With that Alfred closes and locks the door. Jon wanders around the room picking up and dropping toys that he might be interested in but playing by himself is never any fun. He rides one of the horses for a few seconds when he hears very clear shouting from below him. He thinks it is coming from outside and looks out the window but can’t see anyone in the dark of night. The yells are still loud and clear so Jon is able to follow the noise and pinpoint it to the air vent on the lower part of the wall. He’s about to call into it when he realizes that this situation is just like the spy movie his friend Kathy made him watch. They never got to finish the film because her Grandpa took it away since it was rated PG-13 but Jon does remember the spies going through the air vent. Jon easily takes the old grate off of the vent, a bit too easily as it appeared that someone else had removed the screws keeping it there long before him, and checks to see if he could fit. 

He can!

It’s a tight squeeze and it’s dusty but he can crawl through as long as he lays on his stomach. Quickly he caterpillar crawls his way in there, moving with his arms in front of him and using his shins to propel him forward. It’s dusty and dark in the vent but the light from other vents around him makes it so that he can see in front of him. Now that the sound is closer the young boy can make out some words being shouted.

“You will let me out of here Drake! You will rue the day that you cross me and when I stab you in the kidneys with a dull butter knife I will force the mantle of Robin away from your hands as your circulatory functions struggle to keep you alive!”

Jon doesn’t understand what’s being said but he knows the angry voice sounds like the other kid in the mansion and if Jon knows one thing it’s that all kids like playing. The boy continues to wriggle towards the voice. His bandaged face scrunches at the amount of dust going in his eyes and he nearly falls through a vent going straight down. He looks down the steep hole and realizes that the hole. He wonders if there’s another way around it when he notices that the sound is coming from the room below him. Jon notices that it’s a dead-end if he goes straight as there is just a metal wall in front of him. The light from below illuminates the area dimly around him and his eyes are able to make out, with some difficulty, words that look handwritten on the wall above the vent.

“Jason, it’s 25ft. Don’t even think about it. -Dick”

Below the blue text is another message written in an aged red maker. “You can’t tell me what to do Dickface- The Better Brother.”

Jon can’t really read every word that well but he gets the idea that 25 feet is a long drop. He goes to move back because he knows falling will hurt. He’s about to make the move back when he feels something crawling on the back of his ankle.

Something with eight legs. 

Now Jonathan Samuel Kent is no stranger to bugs. He prides himself on being the least afraid of any creepy crawly in his entire first grade. As a farm boy, it’s not irregular for the child to come across the occasional spider that needs to be dealt with and he always does his duty with the utmost fearlessness. That doesn’t mean though, he wants bugs crawling all over him or into his socks. Also, he is definitely afraid of spiders still. Just because he can take care of them doesn’t mean the sight of the menace won’t cause his heart to jump. With this information in mind, Jon does the only thing that he can do in this situation.

He jumps forward. He doesn’t simply jump forward, he does it screaming and praying in the fetal position. He prays that the spider is off of him during his escape and he also prays the fall won’t kill him as he feels his 50lbs body smash through the vent screen. 

He feels his body hit the ground screaming, feels his tiny body bounce off the ground on top of the loose metal that used to be covering the vent, but he doesn’t feel any pain. A small hand covers his mouth causing Jon to stop and realize that he’s not dead or in the process of dying. He looks at the tan hand covering his mouth then up the green and gold sleeved arm to meet the sharp green eyes of Batman’s youngest son.

For the first time in Jonathan Samuel Kent’s short life, he feels what he has been told is called, deja-vu; The feeling of having already experienced the present situation. Looking up into those narrowed eyes that are looking down on him, examining him, and gauging his threat levels. Those cutting emerald orbs, the lips always quirked inward in a permanent grimace, and hands with too many callouses for someone so small. 

He knows this boy.

He’s never met this boy.

Yet he knows him.

Suddenly in Jon’s mind, the metal underneath him is not the cover of a vent but an examination table and the room around him filled with unknown chemicals. The room is encompassed in a violent scarlet red emitted from a colossal clockface blaring down on the pair. He struggles to get out when a masked boy shoots up from his left side and slamming his green gloved fists next to his head. 

The moment the hands make contact with metal he’s back to where he was from his short… memory? Flashback? Dream? It doesn’t matter as he immediately forgets what he just experienced. He notices the hand is still on his mouth and points to the boy’s arm to silently request for him to take it off his face.

The other boy takes his hand off the shorter child’s mouth and quietly swears under his breath in a language Jon doesn’t know before glaring at the child. “Of course the vent would be easy to get through, I should have checked again before classifying it as a lost cause.”

Jon slowly stands up and checks his body for spiders and only discovers that he’s just incredibly dusty. There are surprisingly no injuries on him either which he finds odd because earlier that day the boy was injured playing with a kitty but a 25-foot drop doesn’t even leave a bruise? He remembers that falling should hurt a lot more.

“Um…” Jon forces out his dry throat as he looks around the room that is significantly bigger and more empty then the playroom. He returns his attention to the older kid and introduces himself with a pep in his step. “Hi! I’m Jonathan but that long so people just call me Jon! I’m the son of Superman and you’re the son of Batman so we should totally be friends. I mean only if you want but I just found out my Dad was Superman-like, only an hour or something ago. I’m sorry, am I talking too much? I’m not usually like this but maybe I am but I’m just really happy because my dad is Superman and I love Superman and he said he would take me to see Batman but I didn’t really get to see him. Well, I did but he wasn’t wearing the mask and I didn’t even get to say hi but I know I’ll get to do that later. Hey, do you wanna play-”

Before Jon could finish his question the other boy rams a knife he had hidden in his sleeve into the younger child’s neck. The force of the hit causes the littlest Kent’s body to be knocked to the floor. Jon, in shock, scrambles to put his hands to his neck over his wound to feel that there was nothing there; not even an aching pain. He hears Damian groan in frustration and throws a bent blade to the floor in frustration and mutter bitterly to himself. 

“Of course you’re indestructible, you just fell two stories and you’re standing! Why can’t I kill anything here? That’s all I’m asking for.”

He’s indestructible. 

Jon stares in awe at the blade on the floor then looks around the room again and grabs the boy’s arm. “Hey, you-’

“My name is not ‘you’. My name is Damian Al-”

“Hey Damian, can you smash that table on my head like a pro wrestler?” Jon was pointing to the secretary desk in the corner of the room.

The older boy looked incredulously at the request because no one in their right mind would suggest such a thing. Damian’s perplexed appearance must have been a sight to behold as the boy begins to run to the bed in the room and begins jumping on it before throwing himself off and into the adjacent wall. The child giggles as if he’s having the time of his life actively seeking to injure himself. 

“I’M INVINCIBLE!” The boy shouts, taking the ruined knife on the floor and trying to stab his neck as the other child had just sought to do moments ago. “It didn’t hurt!”

“The idiot has a death wish...” Damian breaths out as he watches this seven-year-old slam his head in the mahogany bed frame with all his strength.

“Dami, come on this is so cool! I have to test this out!”

The Al-Ghul shakes the shock out of his body and reexamines the child before him. “If you’re really indestructible then why is your face damaged?”

“Huh? Oh! Well I wasn’t invincible earlier because around 7 o’clock I got in a fight with Ms. Ruth’s kitty and yesterday I was coloring in my Superman coloring book and got a papercut, and the day before that I fell off the back of my dad’s truck but it wasn’t moving so I was okay but it still really hurt-”

“So not dying isn’t new for you.” Danian interrupts after obtaining all the information he needs at the moment and the boy’s voice is beginning to grind on his nerves if it hadn’t already. He rubs his fingers along the temples of his head and calms murderous thoughts, a frivolous endeavor. 

Damian feels a tap on his shoulder and he doesn’t even have to look to know that Jon is eagerly waiting for his compliance hopping like a rabbit. Damian browses the room he has already investigated many times before with a fresh mindset and moves over to the finely crafted but bare desk area to the left of the bed.

“Alright, I’ll bite. Let’s do this.” Damian announces grabbing a heavy desk chair easily and throwing it at Jon, who squeals in glee. He needed some stress relief and this human practice dummy was the best he was getting for the time being.

Alfred and Timothy were having silent simultaneous panic attacks when they saw that Jon wasn’t in the playroom and the air vent opened haphazardly on the carpet. After the butler made a few quick rounds he requested Timothy, who was still in uniform, to converse with young Jonathan as the boy loved costumed heroes. It was only going to be for a moment and then Robin would be free to go back to his duty of watching the newest addition to the family. Unfortunately, when the two entered the locked room Jon had disappeared and could be anywhere in the manor or stuck in the vents. The two sprinted around the mansion looking through every room they could before they heard a crash from the first floor in the direction of where Master Damian was being held. 

The two gave each other a quick glance before they dashed to the room, Tim undoing several heavy locks, and slam open the room door just in time to see Damian thrust a laughing Jonathan Kent over his shoulder and onto a crinkled blade tied to a broken bedpost in a clear attempt to impale the poor boy. Tim couldn’t catch Jon in time and the body bends over the makeshift spear and lands on the ground unharmed.

“Oh my God, why is there a knife?!” The teen screeches picking up the son of Superman and checking his body for injuries. The seven-year-old happily lets himself be maneuvered around by Robin and laughs when he sticks his hand through a hole in his shirt that was created by various swipes of the broken knife. 

“That was awesome! Dami, do it again!” Jon cheers, wiggling out of the boy’s hold and picking up his dad’s glasses off the floor where they fell from his head.

The older child examines him and scrutinizes the marks on Jonathan’s clothes that would normally indicate a fatal wound. After he’s done Damian straightens his back and folds his arms in a refined manner. “Of course I’m going to do it again, but this time I think it would be better if I was on an elevated plane.” 

“Master Damian, what in the world do you think you’re doing?” The Wayne family butler asks as he leads Jonathan away from the extremely violent child.

“Exactly what it looks like, servant.” Damian scoffs crossing his arms and looking at the two older people in the room with derision. “We are simply testing Jonathan’s new-found invincibility. So far nothing has seemed to penetrate his skin, and I have not been able to inflict any broken bones.”

“He spent a while trying to bend my leg backward,” Jon added in unhelpfully pushing away from the elderly well-dressed man. “I mean, my neck didn’t really turn like an owl either but he didn’t try that hard.”

“See, even his joints refuse to yield to my will.”

Is Tim hyperventilating? Yes, yes he is. He stupidly let himself be distracted for one second and it could have lost a child his life if they weren’t the son of Superman. He didn’t even know the kid was indestructible because of his current injuries so Tim can only conclude that this is a recently manifested power. If Jon met the little demon spawn second or two earlier he would actually be dead. 

Tim picks up the happy child (Why is he so happy?) and begins to leave the room to get them to a safe location. The boy beams up at Robin and asks, “Can Dami come with me? It’s boring playing alone.”

Playing? The teen knows what playing looks like and whatever happened in that room was clearly not playing. The caped hero is starting to wonder if the boy is okay mentally as he explains, “No, no he cannot come with you. He just spent who knows how long trying to kill you.”

“But he didn’t.” Jon weakly defends but even he knows that’s a flimsy excuse.

“That is not the point. Alfred will happily play with you so you don’t have to worry.”

“I’m not worried, I’m jus’ bored.” Jonathan pouts, puffing his cheeks. It would have been undeniably adorable if he wasn’t asking for a playdate with a confirmed assassin. “Y’all put me in a room like I’m a baby bu’ I’m not a baby; I’m almost eight.”

“Oh my dear lord you’re seven. Damian, you just tried to kill a seven-year-old!”

“And I’m ten. None of this seems pertinent to the current situation.” Damian states following Tim and Jon out of the room.

“You stay there!” Robin shouts as he continues to drag Jon out of the room, who has gone limp to make his job harder.

“No. You’re not the boss of me and even if you were it wouldn’t stop me from escaping.”

“I do hate to admit it Master Timothy but he’s correct. Master Damian would just leave the same way young Jonathan came in.” Alfred quietly points out, indicating to the open and dusty air vent. “Now, while I do not find it ideal in any way shape or form I do think that keeping the two together might be beneficial for the time being.”

“I’m sorry Alfred but wha-”

Alfred interrupts his charge as he points to a quiet, but glaring, Damian Wayne and whispers in Robin’s ear. “If you would direct your attention to Master Damian again for just a moment you’ll find him not actively rushing you with a hail of violent threats or actions.”

Indeed when the young man looked at the vicious child he was quietly trying to explode Tim’s head with his eyes, but other than that was completely silent and still. He looks back to Alfred and whispers back aghast, “You want me to just let him loose on Superman’s son?” 

“I feel like right now the son of Superman might be the little hero we need right now and the only one capable of handling the young master.”

The teen pauses in thought for a few seconds and looks between the children who were both staring at him. He sighs and sets Jon down behind him and kneels close to Damian. “... Fine.” He huffs and roughly manhandles the angry ten-year-old. “Okay brat here we go.”

“UNHAND ME, VILE WRETCH!” He shouts and begins to fight the older boy with a renewed vengeance the moment he laid his hands on his person.

Tim continued to pat the boy down until he was satisfied with his examination and let go. “He’s weapon-free.” He announces going back to stand by Alfred. 

“-Tt- If I had any other weapons on me I would have already attempted to use them by now, imbecile.” Damian scoffs and follows the group as they move to a different location.

The two older males talked to each other while keeping an eye on the two who quietly walked behind them taking in the scenery. They get to their destination and Damian Immediately grimaces at the sight. The room is located on the highest floor of the mansion with tall windows that are clearly unable to be opened, eight soft heavy chairs lined up in two rows, shelves upon shelves of movies and videogames, a bar with a locked cabinet behind it, and a decorative wagon in the corner filled with plush pillows and blankets.

“This is the secondary media room of the Wayne manor primarily used for when one of the children brings friends over. As you can see, while this room is much more furnished than the previous one you were housed in Master Damian you’ll notice that the vents are nearly 60 feet above you and the windows will not open no matter how hard you push or slam into them. Almost everything is heavily bolted to the ground and walls to prevent them from falling over or hurting anyone who happens to believe climbing it is a good idea. If you need any snacks the bar is supplied with enough sodas and treats to fill your bellies with. The television has any number of entertainment downloaded onto it but I have taken it upon myself to turn off the wi-fi for the time being. If you need anything else, please call for my services. Do not try to leave the room as Robin will be watching you both and guarding the room while I attend to the mess and repair the vents you two have demolished.” The man explained without pause and headed out the door. “Now if you’ll excuse me.”

With that, it was just the three of them left. Tim went to stand in front of the door postured as a well-trained guard and silently watched the two boys in the room. Jon stared up at the tall ceiling and trotted around the room until he found the wagon and began to throw the pillows out. “Dami-”

“Don’t call me that.”

“Look at this! My dad had a wagon like this!” Jon continues undeterred by Damian’s rudeness. Jon sits in the wagon and tries to scoot the toy forward only to find it stuck in place on the carpet.

Robin chuckles at the child’s actions and explains to Jon, “That’s just a decoration. It’s not built to hold people or ride around.”

“Aw…” He experimentally bounces his body in the cart to test its durability. “Well, it’s not breaking yet.” He looks over to the other boy and sees that he has taken to sulking and gradually sinking into the plush lounge chair. Jon hops out of the chair and leaps into the chair directly beside him, sinking into the plush leather as well. “These chairs are so cool! They even have cup holders! They’re kind of warm though.”

“These seats are obviously heated and not as comfortable as the ones my grandfather owns,” Damian comments while crossing his arms and sinking even further into the seat until it appears that it has fully consumed him. It was obvious he was trying to show his superiority, but it’s pretty hard to achieve that when eaten by leather.

“Wow really? I can’t imagine any chair being squishier than this unless it was made of, like I dunno, stuffing. And not the kind you eat but the one they have in stuffed animals.” The seven-year-old replies as he changes his position from regular sitting to a sideways fetal position facing the darker-skinned boy.

“Taxidermy?” 

“No, taxis are those yellow cars that people pay to take them places. I’m talking about plushies.”

Damian covers his face at the boy’s idiotic correction and tosses his head back while groaning. “Why do you act like such a child?”

“What do you mean?” Jon asks confused as they’re both children so it makes the question entirely pointless.

“Do you not understand the situation I am in right now?” He turns to Jon, escaping his soft prison and leaning in closer to the boy so that their spandex-clad guard can’t hear them. “I am being held prisoner by a false heir while my mother is trying to talk some sense into my father”

“I don’t get it.” The child answers dumbly, playing with the lenses on his head.

“Of course you don’t get it. My mother is preparing a new training regimen for me with a man who doesn’t see the importance of a blood son. I must rectify this and prove my worth to him.”

“I still don’t get it.” At the declaration, the older boy ferociously slammed his fist right between Jon’s eyes. He flinched at the connection but relaxed once he remembered that he’s newly indestructible. “Ow? Hmm… Punches really aren’t that scary when they don’t hurt.”

The boy smacks him on the top of the head with more force than the last attack causing the younger’s head to be pushed further into the cushions. “That wasn’t to hurt you, it was to make me feel better.” 

“Dad says that people who hurt others for fun are not good people,” Jon explains while subconsciously rubbing his head where he was smacked out of habit. 

“Well, I’m clearly not doing this for fun.” He vehemently whispers as he returns to brooding in the lounge chair and staring around the room. “This is the worst birthday evaluation I ever had-”

Jon’s mood perks up at the announcement and he practically flies out of the chair and on top of Damian to shake the older boy crazily by the shoulders. “It’s your birthday?!”

“Yes?” Confused by the half alien’s actions Damian shoves Jon off of his body, sending the other across the room and into the backs of the chairs in front of him. Their guard squawks indignantly when he sees the small body hit the seats and scolds Damian for his actions but the boy doesn’t even bother to move from his spot to acknowledge the other.

The son of Superman is not hindered by the violent actions and happily moves up to the boy wonder shouting, “Robin! It’s his birthday!”

“And?” The sidekick inquiries confused staring at the much too positive child hoping before him. 

“AND?!” Now it was Jon’s turn to sound indignant as he threw his skinny arms up gasping in shock. “Where is the cake, the balloons, the presents?! Didn’t you invite his friends over?” 

“What?”

“I don’t need friends.” The other boy chimes in but is ignored as the caped child zooms to the wagon, dragging it out of the back corner of the media room. 

“WHAT KIND OF PARTY IS THIS!? You locked him in a room on his birthday!” Jon screams seemingly offended by Damian’s very existence at the moment. He drags the metal structure to the soda and snack bar. He indiscriminately tosses items in the decoration only momentarily glancing at the item before he decides what snack is spared from his sugary salty genocide. 

“Jon, I don’t think-” The teen starts but is interrupted by Jon’s mutterings.

“We’ll need this, and this, and this, and OH! We definitely need this! Is there any ice cream in here?”

“No, but I can ask Alfred to get some-”

“GREAT! We can still save this!” Jon shouts as he drags the cart to the window to where Damian was now standing in thought.

The boy looks at the shorter boy and then examines his pile of processed foods and glass soda bottles before asking, “To save what?”

“Your birthday apparently,” Tim clarifies, shaking his head fondly at the cheerful boy’s efforts.

“My birthday doesn’t need any saving.”

“Yes, it does. This place is really cool and awesome and great for a party bu- oh hey what’s that?” Jon asks smooshing his face against the cold glass of the window to look at a splendidly lit up area he’s never noticed until this point. “What’s that down there? The place with all the roses and trees.”

“That’s the garden used for galas-”

“Is gala a party?” Jon questions switching from looking at his haul and back to slamming his face to the window to the flowers. 

“Yes but not the one you’re thinking-”

Jon jumps away from the area and back to Robin as he carries the snacks with him. The boy tries to drag the hero to the view so that he can see what Jon is screeching about but the brightly colored teen doesn’t move from his spot. “We need to get down there. Imagine how awesome a paintball fight would be in that field!”

“Jon, please stop-”

“Okay, so paintball is probably out because I don’t think there are any paint guns around here-”

“There are no guns of any kind around here-”

Jon pulls out a small slightly opened packet of water balloons from his stash and waves them around the oldest’s mask. “But I found this bag of water balloons!” He announces cheerfully swaying side to side with a large bright smile. 

Damian saunters up to the door and next to Jonathan and turns his chin up at their warden to look at the boy. “I have to agree that this terrain is appropriate for a battle. Good coverage, plenty of variety, and clearly well kept. Obviously if one wants to be hidden or hide something it would be in there.”

“That’s a lot of words but I feel like we’re on the same page.” He replies joyfully that they now seem to have a common goal other than just being stuck in a room. “Mr. Robin, can we go down there?”

“Jon, no. I’m not allowed to let you two leave this room. You can have your little… ‘party’ in here.” Robin explains and vaguely gestures to the appliances and devices in the room around them. “Plus isn't this room cool? There’s so much stuff to do.”

The boy fidgeted around and evades the teen’s gaze. “I mean I guess but being stuck somewhere makes the place, like, a bajillion times less fun. Plus it’s his birthday so you have to let us!”

“That doesn’t matter right now. He needs to be kept here in this room and in my line of sight.”

“What if you came with us?”

“No.”

“I thought Robin was supposed to be fun.” He pouts and whines, not noticing Damian next to him scoff at the remark made against the hero. 

Robin scowls at the words and is honestly offended. “Hey, I am plenty of fun but Robin is a serious detective-”

A knock on the door behind them interferes with Tim’s sentence and he’s getting real tired of people stopping him mid-sentence. “Replacement, I need you to open this door or at least hand me a cola.” A deep voice Robin knows all too well calls through the door. The teen groans as he punches the door and shouts back at the intruder. 

“No now, I’m working! AND CALL ME ROBIN!”

There’s a pause before the voice chimes in with a smug tone. “Are you in uniform right now? In the mansion? You know that’s against the rules, Replacement.”

Tim essentially shrieks back, “Alfred understands!” with the most frustrating attitude either of the young boys watching have ever heard.

“What if someone sees you like that in the manor?” The voice chides, not bothering to stifle a laugh.

Tim shouts again and roars back, “Jason, you know as well as I do that no one can see me-” 

“Did you just use my name while in uniform? That’s against the rules too. Replacement is being such a rebel today.” Jason interrupts with a dramatic and clearly exaggerated gasp.

“Why are you such an ASS!” The teen cries as he kicks the entrance violently before freezing mid-kick. “Oh no…” 

“What’s an ass, Mr. Robin?” Jon asks loudly and unashamed as Tim remembers the audience in the room.

There is a pungent silence that engulfs the room as the three of them stare at each other before Jason utters with disbelief in his voice, “Wait… are you, Robin the Boy Wonder, babysitting?”

“I am not a baby!” 

“I am a trained assassin!”

Laughter echoes through the doors and the door shakes as it can be assumed by the pounding sound that the person on the other side is punching the wooden frame of the door. “Holy sh- crap. Holy crap there are two brats in there! Robin has been demoted to toddler tamer! Way to uphold the mantle, Replacement!”

“I still don’t know what an ass is,” Jon states, causing the howling to get louder.

“Jason stop laughing this is your fault!” Tim blames loudly and moves closer to the entrance. “Why are you even here?”

“Open the door.”

“I can’t do that. Leave!”

“Fine,” Jason says, seemingly resigned to leave without his sugary drink. Tim relaxes now that his tormentor is gone when he notices that he doesn’t hear any footsteps moving away from them. The current Robin is about to call out to his elder brother when a distinct click rings through his ears and the wood is slammed into his face. Jason Todd in all of his grey t-shirt and sweatpants glory is standing at the now open door over the teen holding his face on the floor. “Haha bitch, you thought I would listen to you.” The young man turns to the children in the room, Damian already moving out of the room while Jon just stares at the stranger and Robin concerned. 

“Fly my pretties, fly away!” The youngest boy finally regains his bodily functions and dashes away with the candy wagon in tow, Jason snatching a soda from him in the process, as his red Superman cape flaps behind him.

“Oh my God Jason, what the Hell is wrong with you?!” The child overhears Robin yell as he makes his way down the stairs, the bright red cart dropping sweets behind him at every step.

“I’m not missing a chance to make your life harder, Replacement!”

Jon ignores the obvious struggle happening on the upper floors as he makes his way down the steps. He looks behind him at the mess he made and contemplates going back to clean it up as it would be rude to just leave it there. He begins to pick up some of his lost snacks when he feels arms coil themselves simultaneously around his mouth and arms from behind him. Jon struggles against the hands upon him but is silenced by a shush into his left ear. His blue eyes dart to his treats and he sees them being thrown asunder in the opposite direction his body is beginning to be dragged in. 

The boy holds on to the cold silver handle of the quickly depleting snack wagon and taken outside. When they were far enough into the darkness that the night offered them the hands finally released him. He jumps away and falls backward over and into the cart. He sees glowing green eyes stare back at him causing Jon’s jaw to drop. “Holy cow Dami how did you get your eyes to do that!?”

“What?” Damian asks but in a way where it’s not a question but a confused murmur. 

“Your eyes! Dude, they’re glowing!”

“Ah, that. Not important, it goes away after a day.”

Jon is remarkably perplexed as he feels the complete opposite. As he stands up and untangles himself from his cape he states his feelings. “Uh, I feel like that’s very important.”

Damian merely rolls his eyes at the child’s behaviors and begins to drift away and towards the rear of the manor’s yard. Jon briskly trots his way over with the empty wagon but promptly loses the older boy in the large wooded area he’s found himself in. Large blue eyes gawk in awe at the place encompassing him and feel that he’s a bit more at home with all the greenery. Jon is amazed that someone’s backyard would have so many trees especially in a city as Jon has only ever been to Metropolis, but he was very young during that trip and doesn’t remember it that well. 

He wanders the forest for a while, slipping through the grates of a several metals fences until he comes across a place where he can’t slip through with his wagon. He doesn’t know why he decided to carry the contraption with him, but he stopped questioning his actions long ago. Or maybe he never questioned his actions in the first place. He walks along the edge of the fence like one would do in a corn maze hoping to get to the front of the house. Now, Jon knows that he could have just walked back the way he came or stood in place and waited for someone to find him, but did he? No. He hoped that he would run into the other boy while wandering about, yet it appeared that his searching was in vain. 

While walking around Jon thought about the other boy and how mean he was. His father always told him to stay away from kids that hurt others or say mean things to him, and for the most part, he has. He never lets bullies get to him and makes sure that he sets a good example for others. Was he perfect? Absolutely not as he does speak out from time to time and gets himself into weird situations by breaking the rules.

His current situation was a perfect example.

That being said by all accounts he shouldn’t try being friends with a boy who clearly wants to hurt him. Plus he threw away all his snacks! Jon thought they could get along because they were the sons of the two most famous heroes in the world. He should give up trying to get along with him. 

He SHOULD STOP trying to get along with him.

He SHOULDN’T try to do nice things for him.

He SHOULDN’T bother looking for the boy.

Jon shouldn’t do a lot of things.

Too bad he’s not a quitter or else he would have listened to the rational voice in his head. The seven-year-old lets out a frustrated groan and kicks his wagon in the first act of negativity he expressed all day before turning around and stomping off to look for Damian. Against all common sense, he cannot for the life of him get rid of the feeling they should be friends. It’s almost as if part of him is forcing his body to continue the search.

Luckily Jon didn’t have to search for long when he came across a hidden entrance embedded in the grass-covered from the night sky by tall leafy trees. Well… it would have been a secret if it wasn’t left wide open. He wouldn’t have even noticed the hole if it wasn’t for the obviously broken hinges. The child knees down to take a peek inside the entrance but can only make out a concrete slope leading down. He puts his father’s thick lenses over his eyes in an attempt to magnify the sight before him but was only met with darkness.

“I should have brought a flashlight instead,” Jon mutters under his breath as he pushes the wagon to the edge of the incline. “At least I still have this.”

The child hops in the red cart, tucking his knees to his chest, holding the handle up in a makeshift steering wheel, and leans forward into the dark abyss below. The wheels were slow to move forward, but they did move and soon he was slowly riding down the hatch. Jon didn’t know if Damian was even down this path, but Jon’s gut feeling was telling him he was right and Jon’s gut had only failed him half the time. 

The wagon gradually gained speed until it uncontrollably rolled forward. The boy couldn’t see anything but he can feel the wind rushing past him and his Superman cape flowing loudly behind him. It feels like he’s been going down for hours but it was only a minute before a foul smell hit his nose. It was absolutely rancid and Jon wished that his nose didn’t work as the scent almost burned. He didn’t even fully register the smell when something fluffy hit his face and screamed in his ear. His small hands grabbed whatever slammed into his head and tried to claw into his open scratches. While he still couldn’t see he could definitely feel and what he was feeling was a fluffy creature with boney wings.

Then he remembers that he was at Batman’s house.

His house with a cave underneath it.

A bat cave.

Jonathan was holding a bat.

He stops himself from screaming and tries to calm himself down. He knows that bats are just fluffy flying rats and Jon likes rats. There are plenty of rats around the farm so it is probably like that. Then he remembers that his dad always told him to say away from rats because they were diseased. Okay, that didn’t work and now he’s starting to panic again. Before he could do anything such as scream bloody murder the wagon hit something causing Jon to have the wind knocked out of him and hit his head forward. His cap draped itself over his body and the bat he was holding escaped his now loose grasp and flew away.

Jon rubs his forehead as he falls back into the bucket of the wagon while taking deep breaths. It was hard to get air back into his lungs when he got winded and he kneeled backward in the car without his seatbelt enough times to know that. As his mom always said, “Experience is the best way to learn something.” Lois most definitely did not mean for those words to be used in the way he is, but that doesn’t make them any less true. 

It’s at least nice to know some things can hurt him. His head is fine but the force of the air leaving his lungs was very, very painful. Jon looks around him noticing that there is now SOME light around him, but sadly he had a difficult time seeing anything. When he recovers from his injury Jon slowly hops out of the wagon and tests the ground beneath him to make sure that it was safe. When his worn sneakers confirm it was solid rock he moves towards what he believes is a light source, of course taking his trustful metal vehicle with him as it has been his only true companion that doesn’t deprive him of snacks or leave him alone. Even though Jon can only vaguely see silhouettes against the darkness of the cave he perseveres to stay in the path.

At least until he almost falls off a ledge. He’s about to scream when a now very recognizable hand covers his mouth for the third time and pulls him back up. “You’re going to blow my cover, alien.” The harsh voice whispers into his ear before Jon is placed (dropped) next to his wagon.

“It’s your fault for leaving me alone.” he hisses back, slapping the hand away from his mouth.

“Looks like someone is growing a chip on their shoulder.”

“Why are you such a butt?” Jon asks the silhouette next to him as there is still not enough light to make out details even if someone is directly next to him. “I’ve been nothing but nice to you, yet you have been a complete jerkface.”

“I’m a ‘butt’ and a ‘jerkface’ in your oh so eloquent words. Clearly someone hasn’t been receiving an adequate education in this country.” Jon can’t see Damian’s face but he can see those green glowing eye-rolls as he mocks him.

“What’s your deal?” The boy asks with his hands on his hips, emulating his mother when she’s serious. “Why are you so violent and mean?”

“My ‘deal’ is that I’m trying to get to my parents so that I may show my worth and become the next Robin.”

“Robin is supposed to be nice to other people.”

“And what would you know about my family’s legacy?”

“I dunno about a legacy but I know that Robin works with Young Justice and used to lead the Titans. So that means that Robin is nice to other people to be on a team with them.” Jon shugs as he explains the stuff he heard about the Boy Wonder. He seems those green orbs narrow at him and move away from him while Jon follows, finally having something he can finally see in the darkness. “Can your glowing eyes see in the dark?”

Damian sighs softly and replies, “No, it's just a side effect.” He seemingly traverses through the cave with Jon clumsily following him; a task that is not easy with a wagon in tow. “And I’m a terrific leader. My mother has already put me at the head of many assassination operations and all have been successful.”

“So your mom is a good leader.”

“Were you not listening?”

“I was. It sounds like they listened to your mom who said to listen to you.” Jon points out, hitting the back of the older boy who suddenly stopped ahead of him. “That’s not because they like you.”

“The operation was successful-” Damian growls out lowly from his throat but is stopped by the younger child. 

“That doesn’t matter because no one will follow a leader they don’t like and right now you’re being a big bully and no one likes a bully.” Jon huffs while he says his thoughts out loud. He sticks his lower lip out and furrows his brow disappointed by the other kid’s answers. “You’re not going to lead a team let alone be Robin by being a really big jerk.”

The boy falls on the cold rocky ground as the taller boy leaps on top of him. Jon feels his hands meet fine silk as he pushes against the body pinning him down with hands around his neck. “You know nothing about tactics, fighting, leadership, or me. You have only kept your life this long because your annoying presence allows others to be distracted. Your usefulness has outlived its life and when I find a weapon to kill you that will be the first thing I do. You’re just a child who just found out his Daddy is Superman and believes that qualifies him to-”

“To what? To call you out on your bad attitude? To tell you the truth? To not-ACK!”

“Hmm, it appears I can block your airway but it takes a bit more...hmm how should I say this… effort.” Damian gleefully demonstrates, in the most jovial mood he has seemed to be in since Jon has met him, by constricting a single hand harder with his nails digging into his windpipe while jamming the fingers of his free hand down his throat. The younger boy claws his blunt fingertips against the ornate sleeves above him as he quickly loses oxygen, but his efforts are useless as he is significantly weaker than the person atop. Jon thinks he’s actually going to die when bright yellow lights blind his vision behind his lenses and startling the boy enough for Jon to be able to throw him off of him.

He scrambles to his feet and back to the familiar sight of his wagon now that he could see as air fills his lungs once again. The little Superman fanatic massages his throat but his neck doesn’t hurt from the action, the lack of oxygen to his lungs is what was hurting him. Guess he’s not as invincible as he thought. Jon scans the area around him quickly to find that bright carbide lamps shine above him in the shockingly low cave ceiling. He imagined the place he was in to be wide and vast.

“What the hell is wrong you?!” Robin’s voice shouts to a vulnerable Damian slumped upon one of the multitude of rocks around him, pinning the boy down with the end of his bo staff to his chest, finger on a button embedded in the handle. 

For a split second, Jon is glad that his assailant is held captive by the hero but it was only a second before he felt that feeling again. The strong surge of emotion that starts from his heart and spreads through the rest of his body like cold water until it becomes boiling by the time it reaches his head. His visions blur and the narrow area of the cave they’re in changes. 

Burning rubble falls around him while Jon is helpless to do anything but watch. There is another boy that looks like him but significantly older, a teenager, on the ground in front of him. He regains motion in his legs when gloved hands ram into his shoulder throwing him back into the flames. Jon scrambles frantically back up but he doesn’t know why his body desperate to move. 

But he has to get up.

He has to get there on time.

When he escapes the fires he sees a teenager adorned in a black cowl that conceals the upper part of his face and red suit hold a sleek metal pole to the male’s chest. The boy on the ground is sobbing, tears falling uncontrollably while looking up at the bo staff on his chest, but is also laughing a hideous laugh that chills Jonathan to his core. And then he’s running. He’s sprinting with all of his heart to the man holding the weapon. He lifts the bo staff, a green blade sprouting forth from it, and rams it into the House of El symbol on the teen’s chest.

“KON!” He shouts the unfamiliar name and tackles the cloaked figure hammering his fist against a metal emblem on the attacker’s chest. “Don’t hurt him!”

The next thing Jon knows is that he’s back in the cave fighting against Robin to get off the kid that honest to God wanted to (and most likely still wants to) kill him. His actions obviously alarm the teen just long enough for Damian to knock the colorful hero back against a faraway cave wall. Jon repeatedly chastises himself for doing whatever he did that made him want to free the guy but it’s quickly replaced by the fear of making Robin his enemy. Jon shakes his head and the last remaining visions of the hallucinations he saw vanish along with his confusion.

Maybe Jonathan was just a good kid but it was more likely that Jonathan really does have a death wish, as Damian stated earlier, that caused him to pull on the ordinate shiny silk of the assassin’s arms towards the wagon and down a now visible incline that leads to a larger more open area of the Bat Cave. Surprisingly the half-Arabic doesn’t protest being puppet-ed along by the shorter boy and allows his body to be yanked every which way until they’re out in the open of a much more expansive area of the cavern and able to see the familiar decor of the more technologically advanced areas. 

Unfortunately, the area is below them and they can hear Robin shouting at them from behind. Before Jon can turn around and see how close the caped crusader is to catching up to their location he’s hauled into the back of the wagon, cape going over his head again, and is going down. The boy rotates his neck to see Damian in the front doing what Jon did earlier, turning the handle of the cart into a makeshift steering wheel and rides it down the steep incline.

Towards the cliff.

For some reason, the only thing Jon can focus on at the moment is the fact that Damian took Jon with him instead of leaving him behind rather than the fact that they were about to crash into a bottomless and unforgiving abyss. He turns back to look behind them to see Robin, sans bo staff, running after them calling for Batman. He hears laughter behind him and is shocked to find that Damian is grinning ear-to-ear and laughing as they head over the edge. The joy he’s feeling is contagious and swiftly Jon’s concern of falling disappears to be replaced by excitement.

Damian leans back caging Jon securely between the back of the wagon and his body the moment the tires cease contact with any surface. It’s weird to see the cave brightly lit when it was so dark before. His eyes can clearly make out nearly all the unique structures around him but his gawking stops when he feels his body floating. Is he flying? Jon doesn’t think he has that power yet so it’s most likely that Jon’s not the one making himself float.

A loud crash steals his attention away from his thoughts only to find himself met with the stern gaze of his father. Thankfully it wasn’t directed at Jon but at Damian who is held in the Man of Steel’s other arm. The two are flown down to the furnished area of the Bat cave where a very tired looking Batman and furious looking Talia Al-Ghul at the two boys approaching.

Batman walks to the edge of the ledge and proceeds to keep walking as if there wasn’t a scary pit beneath his feet. Robin jumps down from the ledge and bounces on the invisible floor from the high distance completely fine if not a bit disoriented. Jon notices the wagon has landed on the invisible net but is definitely more dents than he remembers it being. 

“Why in the world were you just standing there like you didn’t see our children shooting off a cliff!?” Superman roars as he places the children down carefully on the ground. 

The dark knight huffs an exasperated sigh as he escorts Robin back with him with a fierce grip on the teen’s arm then addresses the raging Superhero. “I put protection here nearly a decade ago when Jason and Dick decided to have a high stakes backflip contest.”

Baffled by the complete lack of worry from Batman’s tone Superman grasps at the man. “You can’t be serious Bruce-”

“Names.”

“FORGET THE NAMES BRUCE, WHAT THE HECK WERE THEY DOING?! I TRUSTED YOU WHEN YOU SAID MY SON WOULD BE SAFE AND THE NEXT THING I KNOW I SEE HIM FLYING OFF IN A DEATHTRAP WITH A TRAINED ASSASSIN!” The taller man cries out getting in the other father’s face and turning various shades of red.

With another huff, Batman turns to glare at his ward and bites out. “That’s what I want to know.”

“I… I blame Jason.”

“Jason, you blame Jason-”

“Bruce, this is your fault for allowing both of them to be in the manor-”

“Hey, don’t talk about B like that! You’re the one who came uninvited-”

“What did Jason do-”

“Your children are out of control Bruce-”

“MY CHILDREN ARE OUT OF CONTROL? SAY THAT TO MY FACE AGAIN-”

The three older men in the room proceed to descend into chaos at one another as Jon watches both worried and entertained. While he hates it when people argue the boy would absolutely watch an entire movie of the two heroes fighting. Jon looks next to him to get the 10-year-old’s opinion on who would win but meets empty space. Next to the really big and fancy computer, Jon sees Damian talking to an older woman he can only assume to be the other boy’s mom.

“Mother.” He says and confirming Jon’s suspicions. He stood rigid, poised, and most of all void of all the emotions displayed on his features before. 

“Son,” The beautiful woman speaks gripping the child’s shoulder gently but to Damian, he might as well have been carrying a 100lbs weight. “What is this foolishness?”

“I was just-” He starts but the hand on his shoulder twitched causing Damian to shut his mouth

“You were making a fool of yourself! That is what you were doing!”

“Yes, mother.”

“I’m going home.” She informs her son, releasing her hold to turns on her heels and walk away from her son. Seeing his mother’s actions he goes to pick up his bag from where he sees it next to his father’s seat. She stops without looking back Talia asks, “Damian, what are you doing?”

Damian freezes his actions and stands straight back up from mid-grab, dropping the duffle back where he found it. “Aren’t we leaving?”

“No, I am leaving. You are staying here. That is why your stuff is here.”

A flash of pain crosses over his face but it disappears as quickly as it came about. “But aren’t you staying with me mother?”

“Oh my son, and here I was beginning to think that you were above misguided assumptions.” She laughs with zero humor in her voice. “I shall return for you when the time is right. When you have proven yourself to me or your father has failed to prove himself.”

“I understand mother,” Damian states as he watches his mother walk away and in a blink of an eye she was gone. 

Jon knows he’s not the smartest or even the nicest boy on the playground, but he likes to think of himself as the most stubborn. He looks at the older boy he met on the weirdest, but still best, day of his life only to see that this rotten kid is having the worst day of life. Damian was upset, even though others wouldn’t notice at first glance, and even though the boy is mean to him he can tell that Damian is a friendless kid. Friendless for being mean and violent probably, but that’s only Jon’s guess. 

He might be mean, rude, violent, and everything his mom and dad always told him to say away from, but Jonathan Samuel kent has never been known to be a quitter. He sure as heck isn’t about to start now just because someone didn’t learn their manners. Jon skips over to the scowling boy and attempts to engulfs him into the largest tightest hug his little elementary school arms can muster. It doesn’t work well because he easily doges it but Jon was at least able to grab onto his gold shoulder cape and take the boy down with him on his trip to the floor. While Damian was still on the floor Jon went in for the kill and embraces him before he can escape.

“You need friends so now I’ll be your friend.” The boy cheers while the older child is hitting him in the face hard enough to knock the glasses off his face. He’s not deterred by these actions as hits don’t cause him any pain anymore.

“I said I don’t need friends you insufferable pest!”

“LET ME BE YOUR FRIEND!”

“NO!”

“I’m the only person that can be your friend!” Jon explains as the other pulls the cape around his neck back ripping it off. “You have a meanness problem and you can’t hurt me that bad! I can totally be your shield and stop you from hurting other people.”

Damian stops his volley of strikes to the younger boy’s face and ogles at him as if he was stupid. “You do know that a shield is supposed to protect the wielder from others and not the other way around?”

“I dunno but I don’t see the problem. I can do both? I mean you want to be a hero-”

“I want to be a skilled fighter and heir to-”

“And I want to be a superhero so you can do all the hitting and I’ll take all the hits. Wait... I want to fight bad guys too… I’ll think of something.”

“I don’t think that you’re particularly proficient at thinking.”

“I’m a great thinker! I’m just not very smart.”

“Ah, at least you are aware.” Damian sighs then leer at Jon, who has yet to let go, before changing his expression to a satisfyingly condescending smirk. “Alright then. You might be a complete nuisance but I will acknowledge you’re a particularly useful tool. A weapon that has yet to be sharpened and honed.”

“So you’ll be my friend?’

“Whatever title you would like to give your subjugation compels you let go of me faster is fine with me.” Even though Jon doesn’t understand a lot of the words Damian says he assumes that the taller boy agrees and happily releases the other. He watches his father and Batman’s fight simmer down to harsh whisperings and tense language while Robin awkwardly standing to the side when he remembers that he didn’t get to show his father his new skill.

“Oh, hey Dami-”

“Don’t call me that.” The boy spits out violently as he’s now kneeling on the ground and rummaging through several weapons.

“Sorry! Damian, I need to show my dad my awesome superpower! Can I borrow one of those for a second? I promise I’ll give it back.” 

Without even dignifying the question with a verbal answer the Demon’s son hands Jonathan the handle of a simple dagger. Jon quickly thanks him before hopping off to where the adults were talking with the blade behind his back. “Hey Dad, guess what my new friend Damian and I figured out?”

“A new friend?’ Superman asks with a quirked brow; side-eyeing his fellow crime-fighter who just shrugs underneath his cloak.

Robin on the other hand immediately knew where this conversation was heading stepped forward to stop the child. “Jon! Nonono-”

“Check this out!” Before anyone could stop him the little boy in the Superman shirt pulls out the knife and rams the blade directly in the path of his heart. His father stopped him by holding his hand before it got close to touching the boy with the most distressed expression of shock and horror Jon has ever seen. 

“Jonathan Samuel K-”

“I was going to be fine dad, Dami did it and the knife broke!”

“He what?!” Jon’s father screams with his eyes almost cartoonishly bulging out of his skull. 

“Dad, I’m just like you! I’m indestructible!” The boy declares brightly, sprinting to Damian to drop off the knife and back to his father gleefully. “I do have your superpowers!”

“Bu-how? I didn’t gain my powers until I was in my mid-teens.” Superman questions in disbelief.

Batman walks next to the hero and examines Jon with silent judgment before turning to his fellow father in arms. “Something clearly changed from the moment of Jon’s last injury to the moment he entered Gotham.”

“I flew him here but do you think that had something to do with it? Was it me revealing the secret to him?” the man in blue questions frantically running through any possible answer in his head, but not settling on one.

“I can scan him but that will only tell me a biological development occurred. It still might give us some insight if he went through any other changes-”

“Bruce, I know I came here so you can run some tests on Jon but do you mind if we hold off on that?” Superman asks, picking up his child tightly in his arms. “Plus after what we talked about earlier and the new addition to your family I think it can wait.”

“Hm.” 

“Dad?” Jon calls out pulling on his father’s red cape. “Can we come back soon?”

The man stroked his fingers through his son’s messy hair with a conflicted expression and tried to answer the best way he can. “Um… I don’t know, Sport. I don’t think that’s a good idea-”

“I’m Damian’s only friend.” Jon softly explains to his father with a pout making sure no one can hear them. “You always told me that everyone needs a friend and I’m the only person he can’t hurt and I think the only thing he knows how to do is hurt, people. I don’t think he’s ever had a friend to teach him how to play. Did you know it’s his birthday and he didn’t even get a party? That’s not right.” 

Superman’s heart melts at his baby boy’s sweet sentiment but is still conflicted whether he wants someone with such a violent mind around his child. Then he reminds himself that his other boy Jon wants to be friends with is a child as well. “I guess we’ll just have to schedule a playdate in the near future. Is that alright with you Bruce?”

“Hm.”

“That’s a yes from Batman but next time it will be completely supervised.”

“Yay!” Jon cheers hugging his father.

“And no weapons!” Clark adds hurriedly as he watches the boy sharpen a knife while staring directly into Superman’s eyes from a distance.

“It’s okay, only choking can hurt me now!’ Jon reassures hugging his dad tighter and happy that he gets a chance to make his first superhero friend. 

“I’m sorry what?”


	3. The "Talk"

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jon visits the Wayne manor again with his family and attempts to have a better experience. Instead of playing games and preparing for a birthday party, he gets a lecture from an unlikely (or perhaps the most likely) source.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi! I'm glad people are like my weird story and I am so grateful for the nice comments left on my last chapter. You guys are great! Thank You!

Jonathan Kent was doing his best to not hurl his lunch into the backseat of his mother’s chair inside the truck. He’s not the sort of kid that gets motion sickness. Moreover, he had the incorrect assumption that his new powers of invincibility made him immune to illness. His scars from a few days ago healed up nicely and he thought it was his superpowers instead of his natural healing rate. He now comprehends how wrong that is the moment they went over the millionth speed bump since they entered Gotham City. The air is rancid and humid which doesn’t especially help the child’s current predicament. What’s especially worse is that the seat belt is tight against his stomach making the entire experience at the top of his list of worst ways to travel.

“Mom, can I please take my seat belt off?”

In front of him, his mom turns around, her short tresses falling in front of her eyes frizzy yet somehow oily, and huffs obviously frustrated but making sure she’s smiling. ”Jon, it’s dangerous to have your seatbelt off.”

“But I’m invincible-”

“I don’t care if you were immortal, you are not taking off that seat belt young man.”

Jon pouts then promptly crisscrosses his arms over his chest and puffs his cheeks in an attempt to appear upset. Sadly all he ends up accomplishing is looking adorable and unthreatening considering he’s on a Superman-themed car booster seat.

His father chortles at his boy’s actions, watching him through the rearview mirror, and tries to address Jon’s uncomfortableness. “I’m sorry about that, Jon. Want me to open a window?”

Lois scoffs at the suggestion and informs her husband that the air of Gotham would most likely make him feel worse rather than better. Clark admits that it was obviously a bad idea and promises to Jonathan that the family will be at their destination soon. The young boy accepts the answer but still isn’t too thrilled about being in the truck for much longer. They’ve been in the automobile for over 12 hours with full knowledge that his father could have flown them in minutes, maybe seconds!

When first asked his father about the decision all Clark states that just because he has superpowers doesn’t mean that he should be using them for trivial things. He still wanted to have Jon experience a sense of normality and that meant traveling like a normal family of three who cannot afford plane tickets. Apparently two journalists, even the award-winning Lois Lane, are not paid enough to acquire such luxuries.

So here they are, the usually sunny Kent family huddled in a beat-up old farm truck driving all the way from peaceful Hamilton County Kansas to crowded Gotham City New Jersey. Tensions are high, they all feel icky from just existing in the same space as the smoggy air, and the traffic is atrocious. Lois is constantly turning up the radio to tune out the sound of all the people who keep swearing at them for driving properly while Clark is doing his very best to not get driven off the highway.

Isn’t Jersey just great?

Finally, the family makes it to their destination and drives up a gorgeously paved and decorated street covered in stunning trees. Jon gapes out the stained window of the truck, blue eyes taking in the beauty of something other than black skyscrapers, wondering if he’s even in the same city anymore. The pick-up pulls over to a shiny steel box in front of a tall elaborate gate at the base of a hill and the driver presses a large black button. After a moment of silence, a fuzzy but still distinct voice emits from the device.

“Good evening Mister and Mistress Kent, we have been anxiously awaiting your arrival.”

“Good evening to you to Alfred! Where should we park this time? Anyone come here before us that we should be aware of?” Clark asks, adjusting his glasses as if the butler was standing right before him and not through a speaker.

“No, as usual, Gothamites like to make it a competition about who can be the last to show up for the soon to be cold hors d'oeuvres. If you would be so kind as to park in the front that would be very much appreciated.”

Lois leans over her spouse’s lap with an inquisitive expression to address the voice box. “Are you sure you want this rust bucket to be the first thing people see when they arrive?” 

“Master Bruce insists, especially when he heard you’d be driving here.”

“Well okay then, whatever ‘Master’ Bruce wants I guess. Thanks, Alfred!” Clark shrugs and shifts the truck first gear and enters the opening gates of the Wanye manor and to the top of the hill. 

Jon is shocked that he’s actually been there before as he has never seen a place so overwhelming. When his father carried him here the first time they used a different entrance where they wouldn’t be visible near the ocean. The house was perched on top of a cliff and actually looks like an honest to God gothic castle surrounded by a large forest luscious and completed by a cobblestone road leading up to a grand entrance. “Mr. Pennyworth said this wasn’t a castle! He lied, this is totally a castle!”

The short-haired brunette woman in the front snickered at her son’s surprise and rested a hand on his knee. “I said the same thing when I first saw this place and I’ve seen some actual castles before.”

“Really?”

“Yep, and this manor is definitely more impressive than some of them.”

At the entrance, which has an elaborate marble fountain, the family parks next to a beautifully crafted stone staircase where the entire Wanye clan stood in their Sunday best. Alfred meets Jon’s dad next to the back of the truck to help them unpack as the family planned to stay overnight. Jon strives to open his side of the door but finds it wouldn’t open even though it was unlocked. The little boy tried several more times before his mom pulled it open from the outside muttering something about a child lock. She helped him take off his seatbelt and unbuckled his body from the booster seat so that he could finally stretch his legs and run around. 

The seven-year-old is still a bit disoriented causing his first steps on solid ground tp be a hapless attempt at walking straight lines. He eventually gets his bearings together and decides to help his father and Alfred unpack their stuff, but is politely shooed away to go to his mother. At the top of the steps, he can see his mom greeting the family consisting of more people than Jon has met. Even the people he thinks he met last time seem completely different now that they are all styled, made-up, and wearing fancy clothes. He looks down at his own attire: a sky-blue flannel shirt, washed-out jeans that are hardly holding themselves at the seams, and navy Heelys that he lost the wheels to who knows when. He unquestionably feels underdressed for the party his parents said he was here for.

When his parents told him they were going to Damian’s welcome/birthday party he thought it would be like all the other parties he’s ever been to. He exceedingly miscalculated the kinds of parties that billionaires throw. The boy shyly sprints over behind his mother’s leg, clutching the knit fabric of her purple leggings and hides his face against her hip hoping they won’t notice how careless he’s clothed opposed to their tuxedos and evening gown. His mother lays a gentle hand on her son’s messy tangled hair as she converses with their hosts.

“Thank you for having us over as guests and not as reporters. I don’t believe that I’ve ever been to one of your galas without a press pass.” She mockingly scolds, slapping the back of her free hand on top of Bruce Wayne suited chest, feeling the layer of kevlar hidden underneath the black velvet jacket. 

The man smiles and breathes out a soft snort as he rolls his eyes fondly at the woman’s teasing. “I very well can’t have my Little Jonathan’s parents working during his friend’s party now can I?”

The two share a small laugh as Jon peaks out further from his mother to study all of the children of the Wayne family, the boys dressed in similar suits with different colored accents and one girl adorned in a form-fitting black dress that reaches to her neck and opens out at the sleeves. The first boy, starting from Jon’s left to right, is unmistakably Robin as he has the same haircut and body type with gold accents on his attire. He’s standing politely towards Jonathan but doesn’t address him other than a small grin and wave. The next boy is most definitely not a boy but a full-fledged grown man. He is lean with the dark blue accents of his suit helping to define his lean muscle structure and has casually messy black hair that doesn’t look sloppy in the slightest. He notices the boy watch him with his own blue eyes and flashes a bright smile he magically makes Jon feel less shy. 

After the smiley man is the tallest of Batman’s children who Jon recognizes as the person who freed Damian and him from the media room. The most prominent thing of appearance to note is the white streak in his hair black and burning red accents of his tuxedo. Aside from being the tallest, he’s also the stockist since Jon believes that the man could probably throw him across the yard no problem. When he notices Jon staring at him he fidgets uncomfortably before deciding to just ignore him. Then there is the girl in the black dress and short black hair pulled back in a small ponytail who isn’t wearing any other color than black, including her lipstick. She’s poised and especially quieter than her siblings which is weird to notice as none of the other children are talking. At least she gives him a kind smile. 

Lastly at the end of the row is Damian who is crossing his arms sternly and has his narrow green eyes piercing daggers into Jon’s very soul. Unfortunately for Damian Jon’s soul soft and fluffy like a pillow so his scowl doesn’t hurt him. Jon leaves his mother’s vicinity and clumsily moves to the birthday boy to give him a hug, bracing himself for a barrage of violent attacks. Surprisingly the only signs of protest are quiet swears in a language Jon doesn’t recognize so he takes that as a sign everything is okay. 

“Hi Dami! Happy birthday!” He shouts in his happiest tone, interrupting Lois and Bruce’s chat. 

“Vile heathen!” The older boy shouts finally jostling Jon off of him and smoothing the wrinkles out of his emerald accented tux. “Must you scream when you are right next to my ear?”

“But that’s how you’re supposed to say it,” Jon explains confused as he hears the people to his left begin to laugh. “How do you say it?”

“With dignity and tact.” Damian huffs opening up the enormous dark wooden doors to the manor and storming in.

Jon knows the other is expecting him to follow, but he can’t in good faith head inside without at least greeting everyone else. It would take a really long time to say hello individually so Jon just decides to try and get it done in one go. He turns his heel to face the rest of the Batman family and loudly exclaims, “Hi, I’m Jonathan Samuel Kent but that’s long so everyone just calls me Jon! Hi Mr. Batman, hi Robin, hi pretty lady, hi tall soda man, hi nice smile man!” Maybe Jon should have asked for their names before just trying to refer to them by names he doesn’t know. Sadly he realized that partway through his greeting and decided he was in too deep so he had to just continue his spiel.

They appear to practically melt at Jon’s mistaken endeavors at a greeting and his mom laughs lovingly at her silly boy. Batman stands in front of him and shakes with a kind smile on his face. “Hello Jon, I’m Mr. Batman but you probably shouldn’t be calling me that. I’m Bruce Wayne.”

“Oh,” The boy squeaks out, returning the handshake. “Sorry, Mr. Wayne.”

After their father finished his greeting all of his children took it as a sign to begin coddling the youngest Kent. Almost in a stampede, the four siblings crush Jon in a flurry of hugs, head pats, and hair rubs at the same time. The child feels himself being jostled every which way with too many hands touching him, even more voices speaking to him, and fighting with each other.

“Hi Jon, I’m Dick-”

“Don’t go teaching the boy more swear words Dickface-”

“Jason you jerk-”

“Dick let go! My turn for hugs!”

“He so tiny and Damian won’t let me hold him like this-”

“Hey, my name is Jason, the cool sibling-”

“Since when?!”

“Liar, I the cool one.”

“Cassandra is the cool one.”

“No, she’s the favorite. There’s a distinct difference.”

“Tim give him back-”

“My name is Tim and you and I really need to talk about last time because you said some things that-”

“Is this about you teaching him the word, ‘ass?’”

“YOU DID WHAT!?”

“JASON SHUT UP OH MY GO-”

“EVERYONE STOP!” Bruce shouts at his kid’s immature behavior. They might be his children but they are all old enough not to be acting childish. “Put him down.”

Jon, whose underarms and feet are being held by Tim and Casandra respectively, is gently placed on the ground and is finally given some breathing room. The four back away giving him some more breathing room. The head of the family puts a strong hand atop his head and apologizes for his offspring’s behavior. “Sorry about that Jon, my kids are a bit much to take in all at once.” He turns to the people in question with a stern look. “I’m sure Jon would like to play with Damian instead of around us stuffy adults.”

“I don’t think y’all are stuffy at all Mr. Wayne,” Jon comments swaying his arms around him making sure to look up at everyone in the eyes. “Everyone is very nice!”

“Awww~”

“Can we keep him?”

“Can we trade him with Damian?”

“Tim no.”

Just then Clark Kent walks by with most of their luggage over his shoulder with a warm grin upon his features. “I see that ol’ Jon here is winning you over with that Kansas boy charm.” He jests as Lois takes a black suitcase off of her husband.

“Speaking from personal experience it’s very effective.” She states kissing the man on the cheek.

“Aw thanks, Lois.” He thanks before returning the gesture.

Jon scrunches his face in disgust at his parent’s affection and hacks out an, “Ew, why do you gotta be gross everywhere we go?”

Dick laughs at the boy’s reaction and pinches his face tenderly. “Aww, don’t worry Jon, in a couple of years you’ll get over the cooties phase.”

“It ain’t cooties Dick,” The tallest one states slapping the hand off of Jon’s face. “It don’t matter how old ya are. Seeing your parents be gross and feeling gross ‘bout it doesn’t have an expiration date.”

A loud cough interrupts their conversation and Bruce looks at all of his children in attendance seriously. “Now that we have introductions over with, we need to get everything in order because the party starts in an hour.”

“It’s not like anyone will show up until an hour into the party,” Tim states as if it were obvious to everyone around him, and maybe it was but Jon found the concept is weird. “I think we have enough time to show Jon around properly.”

“That may be but there are still things that need to be done.” Bruce explains readjusting his already perfectly aligned bow-tie “That doesn’t mean someone can’t stay with him though. I’ll need someone to control both Damian and Jon before and during the party while also helping them maintain a perfect gala etiquette.” 

“It’s gonna be Dick isn’t it?”

“Definitely Dickface.”

“Eldest brother do it.”

“Well… I mean I do have the most experience here-” The man begins to say but is halted by his dad who raises a palm out to stop his next words.

Bruce takes a deep breath and rubs the bridge of his nose before he corrects their assumption. “It’s going to be Jason.”

Everyone freezes at that announcement and gawks at their father as if he, the World’s Greatest Detective, the Dark Knight, Batman lost all of his brain cells and the remnants were falling out of his ears. No one was more shocked by the proclamation than the son in question who, after getting over his initial shock, became suspicious of his adoptive father. He straightens his appearance and looks the man in the eye trying to decipher his motives, but Bruce just sighs again.

“Contrary to popular belief Jason DOES know how to act during these events. He just chooses not to. I know Jason is the perfect choice to take care of those two and cause the least amount of trouble. Maybe he’ll even teach them a thing or two.” The father explains opening the door for their two guests who also seemed to be shocked by his discretion. “Don’t worry, even with that rebellious nature of his Jason is great with children. Now everyone get inside before it gets dark. Alfred will show you to your room Clark.”

Everyone silently files inside the manor and begins their own preparations. Alfred and Jason lead Jon to Damian’s room on the second floor where the boy appeared to be sharpening a blade, but other than that the entire room was practically bare. Alfred hastily confiscated the young master’s katana and sharpening stone before exiting the room leaving all three males in the to themselves. The oldest in the room runs his hands over his face most likely asking which God he fucked over to be in his current predicament. 

Jon sat atop the large California king size bed as he waited for… Well, he doesn’t really know what he’s waiting for but he knows it’s something. Damian is brooding next to his window that faces the fountain for a few moments before he heads to a beautifully crafted yet simple rosewood executive desk and pulls out a series of bulky folders with many colorful tabs sticking out of it. He threw the paper brick at Jon, who caught it by the tips of his fingers, and stood in front of him with a stern glower. 

“Seeing that you have no focus it would be best you read this so you know the plan,” Damian explains to an obviously perplexed Jon. “I will be quizzing you on it.”

Jason snorts at his youngest brother’s actions while the boy opens the folder and is immediately barraged by a wall of text full of words that he doesn’t understand; he doesn’t even think what he’s reading is English. “Uh... Damian, I don’t know what this is.” Jon tries to explain but the other’s green eyes appear to become sharper at his admittance. 

“What do you mean you don’t know what it is?” He growls darkly stepping closer to Jon, making sure he handed him the right folder. “It’s obviously the cumulation of tireless hours research on these so-called superheroes.”

“Okay, but I can’t read it because the letters look funny.” Jon rotates the papers while maintaining his grip but the letters do not become legible to him. “I think you probably have bad handwriting or this isn’t English.”

Damian pinches the bridge of his nose the exact same way his father had done so earlier as Jason bursts into a roaring fit of laughter so strong he has to hold himself up using the wardrobe for support. The young boy sighs before swiping the folder out of Jon’s hands and placing it back into his desk. “You know what, that is my mistake for believing your education was on a somewhat competent level.”

“So it wasn’t English?”

“It was Arabic.” He clears up as he pulls out another similarly sized folder and hands it to the younger child. “This one is English.”

Jon opens the new folder expecting that he’ll be able to read what Damian what’s him to but even though he recognized the letters and a few words the rest might as well still be in Arabic. The words were extremely long with numbers and charts spread through intermittently through the documents. He really wants to ask what he was looking at but he doesn’t want to make too much of a fuss after Damian already had to replace it once. 

The older man can’t bear to watch Jon struggle any longer with Damian’s little plan any longer, so he snatches the folder from the boy and skims it. The two boys protest the confiscation of the papers but are silenced when Jason powerfully slams the folder closed and vocalizes his concerns. “Okay brats, both of you sit down and brace yourselves because Big Bro Jason is gonna school you in real superheroing.”

“And what qualifies you to ‘school’ us in anything Todd?” Damian bites back and stands his ground.

The older man shrugs and grabs the desk chair, turning it backward, and straddles it so he’s sitting in the seat the wrong way. He intakes a large breath of air as he undoes his red bowtie and runs his hand through his shaggy hair. He looks at the two boys before finally answering, “Let me think… Oh yeah: I’m older than you, I was Robin, have bachelors & certifications in Early Childhood Special Education, Educational Psychology, Library Science, and currently working on my masters in English so if you could just sit the fu-heck down that would be freaking swell Demon Brat.”

Even though he’s still upset Damian doesn’t argue as he sits down next to Jonathan on the bed. With that out of the way, Jason leans forward, resting his forearms on the back of the wooden chair, and presents the bulky folder up in a disapproving manner. “Are you two really planning on becoming heroes?”

“Yeah!” This time it was Jon who spoke out, “Heroes are cool! They get to save people, beat up bad guys, and-”

“Get killed.”

Damian scoffs at the very concepts and rolls his head back as he barks out a forced laugh full of malice. “That was a failure on your part Todd. You can’t expect us to make the same mistake.” 

“Wha-”

“I died as Robin Jon,” Jason explains calmly dropping the folder on Jon’s lap. “It’s not fun and games. Vigilantism is a serious business and even more serious crime.”

“But Superman and the Justice League-”

“Are special cases.”

“Todd, if you’re trying to talk us out of it I highly suggest you save your breath. Just because you quit doesn’t mean you can stop us from starting it.” Damian emphasizes crossing his arms arrogantly with a sneer.

“You quit?” The boy in the flannel gasps in disbelief clutching his heart at the very thought anyone would quit a job so awesome. “But why would anyone want to do that-”

“Jon, listen to me. Don’t just hear me but listen to me and listen well because I’m not going to repeat myself.” He waits for Jon to confirm he was following his directions before continuing. “It is a toxic cycle that will eat away at anyone who steps foot in it. It consumes those who embrace it and shackles those who manage to escape with their lives. Those who die in the battle and never come back are the lucky ones because those of us that have been to the other side, who see what happens after being accepted by the comfort of death only to be spit back out to the land of the living, who are forced to hit the ground running will be sucked right back in. There is no end and it will consume us, the ones who have been inside until there is nothing left. I’m getting a bit too abstract for you, you’re seven so let me try explaining it a different way.”

Jason gets up and grabs a pen from Damian’s desk before sitting back down to resume his previous position. He takes back the folder and flips it around to the blank side and draws a crude representation of a shark, a bunch of people, and a lone sick figure away from the group. “Okay Jon, Superman has to save a bunch of people from some evil sharks. Sadly he can only get to one group before the other is eaten. Who does he save?”

“Can’t he save everyone?”

“No.”

“Oh.” The boy blurts out at a loss but the answer is easy in Jon’s opinion. “He should save the group of people I guess because saving more people is good.”

Damian groans at his elder brother’s pandering not seeing the purpose of his lesson. “Are you really giving Jonathan a common ethics problem?”

“Glad you caught on Dami-”

“Don’t call me that.”

“But I’m not.” The man clarifies as he turns his attention back to the son of Superman. “Would you still say that even if that one person he can’t save is you, Jon?”

The boy in question is startled at this new information but thinks, really thinks, about the question being asked and slowly nods. “I.. yeah. I mean I would be sad but I’d understand that dad needs to save more people because he’s Superman.”

“You’re a good kid,” Jason says with a small smile but it’s quickly taken away when he continues talking. “And what about Superman? How would he feel when he realizes that the one person he didn’t save with all the power he has in his hands was his own son?”

“Uh… Bad?” That all the child could think of because he never had to conceive the concept of this certain scenario but it’s plausible that his dad might have to make that decision one day. 

“Yeah, bad. Really bad. That bad feeling is something that has driven people to do terrible things. Terrible things that won’t be forgiven. Maybe your Dad is strong enough to not go there, but you’re alive and wouldn’t know that.”

“And what was father like when you died? You came back to see it.” Damian asks with interest as he leans forward, elbows resting on his knees and chin on his hands.

“I never got to see it but I was told he was very close to becoming a villain himself if Repl- Tim didn’t step in,” Jason explains eyeing the two boys very carefully as he talks to gauge their reactions. “but that’s not the only way the vigilante lifestyle can cause pain. What would happen to the world if one day Superman wants to retire? What if he put the cape away and focused on his family?”

“Um… He wouldn’t? I mean I don’t think he would because he has to save everyone.” Jon states fully knowing he’s going to be proven wrong. “There can’t be a world without Superman.”

“You’re exactly right. He can’t quit even with so many other heroes around. Superman created a world that is dependent on him whether he knows it or not. Even if he wanted to stop the world won’t let him. He’ll never be able to escape the cape.”

“Isn’t that a good thing; That there will always be a Superman?”

“For everyone else maybe but he’s super, not immortal. He can’t live forever and eventually, your dad won’t be able to be Superman. What will happen to the world then?”

“Then… I’ll be Superman.” Jon tries to argue.

“Don’t think your old man’s gonna like that answer kid.” Jason rubs the boy’s hair seeing him so distressed to calm him down. “If you really want to be a hero nothing I say will stop you.”

“At least you understand that much Todd.” Damian sighs and rolls his eyes. “I think your little lecture was audience to deaf ears.”

“Probably a bit too much for you runts,” The man laughs as he reopens the folder and flips through the pages until he finds what he’s looking for. A light hum alerts the two that he was successful in his search and hands them the page that’s titled Secret Identities. “Here, let’s focus on this because I’d rather focus on anything that isn’t customary gala etiquette.”

“That’s easy Todd, it’s obvious I’m going to be Damian Wanye: blood son of Bruce Wayne.”

Jon follows his friend’s lead to explain his own planned secret identity and raises his hand in the air to answer. “And I’m just going to be me!”

“Okay, and who are you going to be as heroes?” 

“Robin obviously once I find a way to get rid of Drake.”

“I dunno what ducks have to do with this but I’m going to be Superboy! Because Superman is my dad and I can’t be Superman so Superboy is the next best thing.”

Jason laughs at Jon’s little duck comment but instantly focuses back on the topic. “That’s good you both have code names but that’s not what I mean. I’m talking about personas.”

“What’s a persona?” Jon asks kicking his feet against the side of the mattress excitedly as he likes this topic significantly better than their previous one.

“I can answer that one for you Jonathan,” Damian says, directing his attention to the boy on his right. “A persona is a term coined by a Swiss psychiatrist named Carl Jung. It is an aspect of someone’s character that is perceived by others.”

“Uh…”

“It’s how you act around people and how people see you.” Jason explains in a way the younger boy can understand. 

“Oh.”

“Well if you want him to be a layman, by all means, keep lowering your vocabulary to his level why don’t you.” The older child pouts looking away from the two.

“What kind of hero do you want to be?” The man rewords the question in an attempt to get the children to understand it better.

Jon quirks his bow up before answering definitively, “I’m going to be me!”

“And I will the true heir to the Batman name-”

“So you both will still be yourselves 100% whether you are in your civilian or hero personas?” He breathes in through his teeth harshly with a look of disapproval. “Don’t think that’s gonna work out really well especially for a duo of kiddos. Don’t have to be the world’s greatest detective to figure that one out.”

“What do you mean?” Jon asks, feeling like he’s been asking a whole lot of questions recently. He’s starting to see the family resemblance between Jason and Damian; they both make him feel dumb. 

“Let me answer your question with a question: If your Dad didn’t tell you he was Superman would you have guessed it?”

He sticks out his lower lip in thought, legs stopping their kicking, and glances inquisitively to the beige ceiling before coming up with his honest answer. “No.”

“And why is that?”

“Uh… Um… I think my dad is cool and all but he’s nothing like Superman-wait… they’re the same person? But when he’s Superman he’s really brave and cool and Dad at home sings country music in the shower.”

“Yet they’re still the same person.”

“It doesn’t feel like they ar- Oooooooohhh!” The child exclaims bouncing up on his side of the bed finally feeling as if something has clicked in his mind.

“Exactly Jon. Your dad can hide behind thick glasses and nothing else because his persona is so strong no one would ever put Superman and Clark Kent in the same universe let alone the same train of thought.”

“I see where you’re going with this,” Damian interjects, sitting a bit straighter. “It’s exactly the same situation with Father as Batman and... ’Brucie.’” He groans that last word out as if it was poison.

Jason dramatically points at the youngest Wayne in triumphs, slamming the folder on the floor with flare. “Now you’re getting me Demon brat!”

“So we have to be the complete opposites of ourselves?” Jon wants to clarify that he understands where the man is going with these conversations so he won’t be lost.

“No, you don’t. Dick is a crime fighter day and night who also doesn’t change his personality much yet not many people would believe he’s Nightwing.” Jason explains it is contradictory to his previous statement. 

Now Jon is officially lost again. “Wait, I’m confused again.”

“It’s okay to take your time. You don’t have to get everything right away.”

“My brain is hurting.”

“I’m not surprised.” Damian mocks condescendingly holding the child upright as he appears to nearly fall over from thinking too hard. Jon’s mind notices it’s the first non-violent contact he’s received from the boy. The tan boy faces back to his brother to ask the question clearly on Jon’s mind. “Why is Grayson different?”

“He’s not different at all. My point isn’t that you have to be the complete opposite to have a secret identity; you just have to be the kind of person that wouldn’t become a superhero.” Jason teaches while punctuating his words with his pointer finger. “No one would expect that the Man of Steel would be quiet Clark Kent or law-abiding police officer Dick Grayson to be the vigilante Nightwing.”

“In other words, we don’t have to become different people but rather emphasize different aspects of ourselves between the two lives that throw off anyone who becomes suspicious of our identities.” Damian elaborates mindfully organizing his thoughts as he processes the information.

“Exactly. But that is too much work for two kids to come up with so if you guys really want to become heroes it’s best you wait a couple of years before jumping in.”

“Wait,” Jon whines as he has an epiphany and points accusingly at the man. “You’re still trying to talk us out of being superheroes!”

“No crap I am!” Jason exclaims as he shoots out of his chair and gestures to both of the boys. “You two aren’t even teens! You’re both still in elementary school for fuc- for heaven’s sake!”

“Age is just a num-”

He stops Damian from finishing that sentence by knocking over his chair and pointing at him accusingly. “Don’t you dare finish that sentence Demon Brat, I refuse to let you open the can of worms that sentence will unleash upon us.” 

“Isn’t Young Justice full of kids and the Titans used to be the Teen Titans?” The youngest Wayne points out as he stands up as well to get on even ground with Jason. “And didn’t Father allow Grayson to wield the mantle of Robin at the tender age of nine?”

“And Dickface is SUCH a stable person thanks to that.” The man says metaphorically dripping sarcasm directly onto the lush carpet. “B didn’t know what the fuck he was doing then and he certainly doesn’t know what he’s doing now, but it’s a hell of a lot better than making you Robin.”

“You just don’t know what you’re doing Todd! You have no right to tell my retainer and I what to do!”

“Your what?! Jon is seven and not in thrall to you!”

“We’re friends!” Jon chimes because he doesn’t understand what’s happening but wants to feel included. Sadly the two don’t seem to hear him.

“He agreed to it himself and it doesn’t change the fact that you have no authority over us! I am the blood son here!”

“No one fucking cares about the ‘blood son’ shit Demon Brat! Find a new shtick to lord over people!”

“It is no gimmick you uneducated swine, it is the truth because a true blood heir of two legacies-”

“Oh my god, you are not the fucking heir cause your creepy ass granddad won’t die to pass it on and Bruce is too much of a stubborn control freak to NOT be Batman!”

“You clearly don’t understand how things work-”

“You don’t know how things work-”

“I have spent my entire life learning the ways of battle and your flimsy moral backbone will not stop me-”

“You don’t even care about helping people you little genocidal maniac-”

“Genocide is beneath me-”

“Murderous little shit!”

“That’s hilarious coming from you Todd! As you might say, pot meets the kettle!”

“Hey, this isn’t about me!”

“This is most definitely about you if you insist on-”

A knock on the door alerts the two to an intruder in the room. All three males turn their heads to the entrance where they find Dick Grayson in all his gracefully suited glory standing in the doorframe. He awkwardly stands with a small white child-size suit over one of his arms as another hand is raised next to the wooden frame in the knocking position. Brilliant blue eyes shift repeatedly between his younger brothers before landing on Jonathan.

Jonathan, during the duration of the fight, has taken to turning himself into a blanket burrito atop of the bed using Damian’s heavy comforter. He honestly didn’t mean to mess up the beautifully intricate sheets of the bed but he doesn’t know what to do when people fight because he’s never been in a situation. Also, the bedding was extremely warm under him so he decided to focus on that instead of the two people arguing. Large eyes and messy black hair are the only things sticking out of the child’s creation as he fidgets with the attention put on him and attempts to roll away. Unluckily, he only manages to fall off the bed with a high pitched yelp. He hears a very long sigh coming from the front of the room before Jon sees shiny black dress shoes next to his face. 

“Jason-”

“Don’t look at me Dicky, Demon Brat started it!”

“Jason, I don’t care about that. I mean I very much care about that, but we can deal with that later. For now, we have to get everyone ready for the party.” The oldest man in the room explains with a tired attitude. He undoes Jon’s confinement and lifts him to his feet while brushing his clothes off. Dick gives Jon a bright and kind smile as he hands him the facey clothes in his possession. “Do you need any help putting that on?”

The boy quirks a brow with the utmost confusion as he takes the attire and inspects it. “I thought I was wearing my clothes.”

Dick chuckles at Jon and vigorously rubs his hair. “Sorry kiddo, it’s a formal event. Your clothes would probably be a whole lot more comfortable than these stiff suits. Do you not like it?” 

Jon shakes his head side to side passionately to reassure the older man. “No, it’s not that. It’s nice!”

“That’s great cause I don’t think we have another in your size. Do you want to take a shower before the party?”

He shakes his head negatively again and clutches the clothes tighter to his chest.

“Alrighty then, let’s at least get that mane of yours tamed.” Dick whips out a small plastic comb out of his front pocket and begins to softly work all the tangles out of Jonathan’s birdnest of a head.

“Why did the old man put me in charge when you’re so much better at this?” Jason asks, watching the interaction of the two boys.

“I don’t know Jay but you gotta try to get these boys ready. Damian especially has to be ready because it’s going to be his introduction to the world.” his combing gets harsher as he speaks causing Jon to wince as the teeth scrape his head. “What he does today will set out who he is to the public for the rest of his life.”

Jason rolls his eyes obnoxiously as he leans back against the wall behind him. “Wow Dickhead, no pressure.”

“Yes Grayson, you make it sound like I will intentionally make a mockery of my family name.” Damian agrees unintentionally copying the same actions on the opposite wall. 

The older man lets out another sigh as he finishes fixing Jon’s hair and turns towards his youngest sibling. “I don’t want to pressure you but this is important. Damian, the way you have been acting with us will not go over well with the people showing up at the gala so you need to tone it down.”

A loud snort catches their attention and finds the man in red covering his mouth with his hand. “You make it sound like the little shit has any self-control.”

Dick glares at his brother but reverts back to his warm smile as he turns back to the little boy in front of him. “There we go, Jon. Can you change into a suit for me; if you can’t I’ll help you?” Jon shakes his head no and takes a step back. “Good. Damian, can you help him while I step out for a second?”

The boy groans but reluctantly agrees. “I’m certainly not going to let him embarrass me now am I?”

“Okay, good. Jason, can I talk to you in the hallway for a moment?” He asks but his inflection makes it clear it was a command rather than a question.

“Urgh, fine!” Jason shouts following his brother out of the room and slamming the door shut.

The two boys were left to their own devices as Jon looked for a place to change his clothes but his flannel shirt was messily pulled over his head, messing up his newly fixed hair. Damian tosses garment across the room as he tosses a finely pressed black dress shirt over the shorter boy’s shoulders. Catching up to his current situation quickly the boy pulls his arms through the sleeve holes before the other can finish buttoning up to his neck. The collar is tight around his throat and the white tie Damian is looping around his neck is not helping matters.

“It’s a bit tight.”

“Not like it can crush your esophagus.” He spits back but loosens the tie anyways. 

Jon changes his pants before Damian can rip those away from him as well and changes in a matter of seconds he’s in a brand new fancier set of clothes. Damian does some last-minute touches such as tuck his shirt into his waist, straightening the lapels of the white jacket, and readjusting Jon’s locks into something resembling neat. When that’s done Damian wipes his hands on the fallen comforter next to them as if the very act of touching Jonathan in a helpful manner was revolting. He picks up the thrown folder on the floor and examines it for a moment before placing it back on the dark wooden desk. He swiftly turns to Jonathan with a deathly expression that makes the child in white freeze. 

He strides back to him and with a callous hand tightly crushes his wrist in his and before quietly leaning close asking, “You’re not having second thoughts about my desires because of Todd’s misinformed lecture are you?” Jon, feeling threatened but not in pain, cocks his head to the side at the wording the boy used. Damian growls in his throat before elaborating. “You’re still planning on helping me achieve my goals, right? Becoming Robin?”

“Oh!” The younger boy pipes up understanding washing over his face. “I still wanna be superheroes with you!”

“Good.” Damian drops the thin wrist and picks up his fallen desk chair so that he is able to sit in it. 

Jon sits on the now baren bed across from the other and watches the agitated boy. He wants to say something to start a nice conversation but he’s beginning to realize that he doesn’t do well with words nor does he want to listen to Jon ramble about random stuff. He leans forward as he tries at least getting to know Damian better. “So… um… What’s Batman-like?” The child doesn’t answer him and continues to look out the window. Jon tries again with another question seeing that the first one wasn’t received well. “What’s it like living in this castle?”

“Castle?” At least that was a reply.

“Yeah, a castle! I know Mr. Pennyworth said it wasn’t a castle but it’s absolutely a castle. My friend Kathy has a whole book with fairy tales in it. There are pictures of castles and it looks just like this house. Even everyone is dressed like royalty! And you all live in this palace with a butler and throw a fancy party just like in the book!” He joyfully explains as he remembers the illustrations.

“A palace? I have lived in a palace before this manor doesn’t compare. It’s acceptable enough but it's more akin to the league’s remote hideout than the main residence.”

Jon couldn’t believe his ears, he can’t think of a place nicer than this and states as much. “A real one! Does that make you a prince?”

“I am an heir but I am no prince as I am not son to a king nor am I from a monarchy.” the boy actually smiles as he answers and while it’s not a kind or polite smile it’s a good expression nonetheless. “My grandfather is a powerful man with many followers and his empire, if I shall give it a proper name, is one paved by blood and skill.”

“So is he, like, a king?” Jon asks in awe at being in the presence of perceived royalty. 

“As I stated earlier I’m not from a monarchy, but my grandfather is a leader. Though I’d say that he surely likes to think he is one worthy of being a King.” His grin was genuine and his tone on the cusp of a laugh before he catches himself and sits up straighter with a blank expression.

“Do you miss your home?” Jon asks softly as he moves to stand next to the other’s sitting form.

“Missing something gives the impression I can’t go back.”

“I miss my home and I have only been gone for a day.” The boy tells Damian with a meek voice as he stares into the outside in thought. “I know I’m going to be home soon but that doesn’t stop me from missing home and my dog.”

“You have a dog?”

“Yep! His name is Krypto and he has superpowers! I mean that’s not why I miss him though. He’s a good boy and I love him and I wish he could have come up with it but he wasn’t allowed to.”

Damian’s venomous green meets azure blue before hesitant words escape the boy’s lips. “I had a companion named Goliath.”

“Is he a dog too?”

“As if my loyal guardian could be compared to a mere house dog.” He brags with a snide smirk filled with pride. “No, he’s a powerful dragon bat whose ancestors guarded ancient treasures. He is a powerful beast with wings the size of mountain tops and teeth that can crush steel! I raised him from infancy to be the perfect partner and tool for the league.”

“Holy cow… That’s so cool!” Jon breathes out trying to imagine what a dragon bat would look like.

Damian practically glows under the compliment replying, “I guess in your words that yes, Goliath is cool.” 

“So you don’t miss Goliath either?”

“...No.” He isn’t so eager to answer the next question but it doesn’t do much to deter his new positive mood. “I don’t miss him, but I do regret that I wasn’t able to wish him farewell so that he may not be distressed about my absence.”

“Oh.” The boy blurts out feeling terrible for reminding Damian of something so melancholy. “I’m sorry you couldn’t bring him with you.”

“Your apologies are not necessary. Besides, while it is disappointing that I couldn’t bring an already trained pet with me it appears that I am able to quickly acquire a new one while in Gotham.” As Damian says that he jabs a slender digit into Jon’s chest drilling his eyes into him.

“Hey,” Jon whines, offended at the comparison. “I’m not a pet.”

The older child just shrugs with the condescending smirk still on his face and takes the hand away. “I suppose you aren’t. You’re a weapon that no one has bothered to hone. Don’t worry, I have sharpened my fair share of blades and you will be no different.”

Jon pouts at the declaration but doesn’t contest as he doesn’t understand the metaphor adequately. Jason walks back into the room, slamming the door open, causing Jon to jump as their short-lived peace is interrupted. Dick follows close behind and immediately the boy doesn’t need his dad’s super senses to know that the aura around them has become immensely tense. The older brother stands at a distance behind the younger and raises his brow with his arms sitting patiently on his hips. Another beat of silence later Jason groans and slouches forward, getting to the fame eye level as the two boys. He gives them a very strained smile and asks, “Are you two wonderful innocent little angels ready for the fun party?”

“Urgh, Little Wing this is not what I meant when I said to watch your tone.” Dick groans slapping his forehead and dragging his hands down his face.

“Screw you, Dick! You can’t pick and choose.” 

“Jason.”

“Fine.” Jason checks over Jon’s suit and gives him a nod of approval before looking at Damian, who is avoiding eye contact with the man. “Okay, when we get down to the ballroom-”

“There’s a ballroom!? Dami you really are a prince! Why do people keep telling me this isn’t a castle!” Jon exclaims the second he hears the information causing Dick to burst into a fit of giggles. 

“Stop calling me that.”

“Prince or Dami?”

“Both.”

“Hey,” Jason hollers snapping his fingers to focus their attention back to him. “When we get to the ballroom you both need to follow some rules. Don’t talk unless you’re spoken too because if you do you lose the game of life. Those posh idiots will hold you hostage for hours if you do then they’ll talk about the latest gossip no one cares about.”

“Jason no.” Dick groans knowing that he won’t be listened to.

“Don’t dance because they will mock you forever since you have no formal dancing experience. They don’t care if you’re kids because they will eat you alive if you make one mistake.”

“But I like dancing,” Jon says but is silenced by a stern look.

“No, Jason, they can dance if they want to.” Once again Dick is ignored.

“If someone asks you about anyone then ignore them because our family’s business is not their business… Well?” Jason challenges, looking over his shoulder to his elder brother.

The man nonchalantly shrugs and responds, “No, that’s a very good rule. Please continue.”

“Okay then. Lightning round: say please and thank you, don’t insult anyone even if you really want to, keep to yourself but don’t isolate yourself, don’t spit in the food, don’t leave unless it’s an emergency (emergency mean that someone better be dying), don’t drink something someone else hands you unless it’s one of us, don’t call Alfred ‘the help’, and don’t start or partake in any fights unless I do it first.”

“You were doing so well until that last one.” Dick bewails shaking his head. “Don’t start any fights at all. Especially you Damian.”

“I have spent the last week researching the Gotham upper-crust and enveloped myself in its backward culture. If it is to help my father maintain his face I shall do as such to behave in a way that brings myself no scrutiny.” Damian assures as he sneers at his brothers.

“And you don’t have any weapons on your person?”

“Grayson, if I did you wouldn’t even notice.”

“... That is the best we’re getting.” Jason declares standing straight up and grabbing Damian by the shoulder. “Let’s get down there.”

As the two leave the room Jon moves to follow them but is stopped by Richard who holds his hand back gently. “You’ll see them again soon but I need to take you to your parents first.”

“Okay, Mr. Nightwing.”

The young man's expression melts into a calming grin as he coos at the boy’s politeness. “Aww, you know who I am?”

Jon shrugs as he moves his short legs to keep pace with the vigilante. “Yeah… I mean I didn’t at first but earlier Jason said you were. I know that Nightwing is the leader of the Titans.”

“Yep! I’m flattered you know of me Jon, but you need to remember to not call us by our hero names when we aren’t in uniform.”

“Oh okay, sorry Mr. Dick.”

“You can just call me Dick, mister makes me sound old.” He laughs walking down the stairs into the main lobby and slowing down so Jon doesn’t trip. 

“But you are old.”

“But it makes me sound as old as your dad.”

“Sorry.”

“It’s okay I know you didn’t mean any harm.” Dick stops in the hallway to pull the little boy aside closer to the wall and kneel down on the ground to look him in the eyes. “Speaking of… um, do you mind doing me a favor? Like a REALLY super big favor?”

Confused but glad that he’s being asked something of a superhero readily agrees. “No, I don’t mind!”

“Alright then,” The man takes in a deep breath, running his fingers through his gelled hair before blowing the air out nervously and holding his gaze. “Can you watch out for Damian? He’s not used to living with us and needs some time to adjust. It’s a lot to ask of you but I just need you to make sure he’s okay and if anything happens you tell me. Understand?”

“I understand.”

“Good. You’re a really good kid Jon.” After a fierce head rub, Dick and Jon head down further into the mansion to meet up with Jonathan’s parents content with the result of their little agreement. 


	4. A Wayne Family Party

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jon gets to experience the Wayne family in their entirety while Damian has to deal with the fact that he's never had a childhood.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The author changes pov as often as they change art styles (FYI it's a lot)
> 
> Finally decided I'll aim to update on Wednesdays. It's not a hard deadline but a self-goal. The reason I take a while to write is that my purpose is not to just tell this random-ass story I thought of but to get my typing word count up. I aim for over 7k words per chapter. It's not a good thing because it should be quality over quantity but meh. If I have any grammar errors I usually catch them but sometimes I don't. 
> 
> Also thank you to those that have given me kudos and comments! I love seeing that people like this! Seeing that number go up honestly gives me life!

The two continue down what seems like an endless corridor with many winding paths and sharp turns before stopping at one of the numerous wooden doors. This door wasn’t as lovely as the ones in the main areas or Damian's bedroom but still very nice. The older male raps on the door three times then waits only a moment before Jon’s mother opens the door clad in a sleek mulberry handkerchief hem dress. She looks more refreshed than she did earlier when she got out of the truck. 

“There’s my handsome little man.” She coos and signals for her son to come inside the room. 

Jon heads inside the bedroom and is immediately aghast at the size of the area that is bigger than the entire first floor of his house. It was much larger than almost any of the other rooms that he visited before, only beaten by the media room and the Batcave. He has a feeling that the manor is filled with rooms that are the size of houses if the exterior is anything to go by. Clark, clothed in a simple black suit and white dress shirt, is standing in the kitchen of the room making himself a cup of coffee when he turns his attention to Jon. The child trots up to his dad and the man immediately picks him up with one arm.

“Well don’t you look like a charmer. Gonna sweep everyone off their feet when everyone sees you.” He compliments kissing the side of his son’s head and moves over the living room.

“Dad! This room looks like an entire house!” Jon cries in shock.

Clark is humored by the awed expression of his son and holds the child tighter. “This area used to be the servant quarters. That means that it’s separate from the rest of the house because they couldn’t mix with the owners. Many really old mansions have these tiny houses in it.” The man explains sitting down on the leather couch in the middle of the living area. “Kind of reminds me of the apartment I had where your mother and I lived in before we had you.”

“Your home was this big?”

“Not quite but it’s a similar layout. Our apartment wasn’t so… extravagant.”

Jon cocks his head in thought for a moment before asking, “Does that mean Mr. Pennyworth lives here? Are we stealing his room?”

Clark smiles and shakes his head. “Do worry about that Jon, Mr. Pennyworth lives in the main area with the family.”

“Oh.”

At that moment Lois walks over to them and pats her son’s shoulder. “Let’s get you some dress shoes. I don’t think Heely’s are part of the dress code.”

“They’re not Heely’s anymore. They’re just really boring shoes now.” Jonathan corrects but frees himself from his father’s embrace to get ready with his mother. 

The next hour was filled with tedious preparations to make the entire family presentable such as: vigorously washing their faces, trying on shoes, Clark misusing his heat vision to make a stream towel, Lois spending a good 45 minutes styling Jon’s hair, and both males doing their best to get the family matriarch’s short frizzy hair to stay in a fancy bun on a humid August day. Jon’s father was still helping his wife straighten her hair while Jon himself was just blasting the can of hairspray at her when a knock alerts them to someone at their room door. Clark calls for whoever it is to come in and Alfred walks into view from where the family was standing in the bathroom. He stares at them curiously for a brief bit before stepping in and taking over the Kent’s disastrous hairstyling situation.

“I see that someone was trying to do something new right before the party.” He chuckles as he quickly turns the woman around and washes the copious amount of hairspray the young boy has subjected his mother’s locks to. “Cosmetology is rarely seen as a familial group activity but I shouldn’t be surprised by strange family bonding methods by now.”

Lois embarrassingly looks away as the butler grabs the hairdryer and plugs it into the outlet. “You make it look so easy Alfred.”

“I know.” The older man, as if by magic, styled the hair perfectly and with a lot less effort than it took the whole family. He steps back and looks over his handiwork before addressing his impromptu salon client. “I may not be a professional but it’s better than its previous state.”

Lois sighs delighted as she looks over her appearance in the mirror and gratefully thanks the man. The other two people in the room complete their own preparations and line up by the door. When everyone is finished the Wayne family butler escorts them to the ballroom. Jon feels like he’s been walking forever with how far and large the manor is but forgets his fatigue when they get to the large gothic-styled ballroom one would see in movies. 

They entered through the second floor down beautiful scarlet stairs that expand the lower it gets onto an almost golden dancefloor. The windows were tall, nearly the size of a three-story house, and some even lead to elegant stone balconies that line the three walls of the room. The public entrance is decorated in lush rose bushes and cleanly cut hedges as the boy sees some people beginning to filter in. Soft orchestral music begins to draw Jon’s attention to a group of finely dressed men and women playing classical instruments in the back next to a series of tables lined with every colorful dessert imaginable. In the center of it all was a giant dark chocolate 5-tier cake that Jon has only seen used for weddings. 

“Oh my gosh! Mom, look at that cake!” The boy shouts, pulling his mother’s hand to get her attention and pointing to the sugary monster.

She only briefly glances at the enormous pastry while trying to get her son to keep walking. “My goodness, it looks like Bruce didn’t hold back his wallet for this party.”

“Mom that cake looks bigger than three of me!”

“It sure is. You have to wait for all the guests to arrive before they serve you any.” Lois continues to pull her son along to the main floor where people were mingling while he tried to drag himself to the cake.

Jon looks around at the people entering the ballroom and already there but doesn’t see any member of the Wayne family. He looks up to see if they were on the second level when he notices that the giant crystal chandelier was swinging. It wasn’t going wild or anything but it was moving in a place with no wind. He tried to figure out what was causing it but he didn’t have supervision so his efforts were futile. His dad touched his shoulder and in a blink of an eye, he was gone and back before anyone noticed. The man puts a finger to his lips in the universal hush gesture and Jon gets the hint that he shouldn’t ask about it. 

Seconds later the entire Wayne clan enters the ballroom, the eldest and youngest son’s hair looking a bit more windswept then he remembers it being, to the joy of the guests who have already arrived. A swarm of reporters immediately hound them the second their feet hit the ground floor and shoved each other around trying to pry them for information. The family remained calm in the chaos and continued walking as if there wasn’t a hoard in their path to greet their guest. It’s evident that Bruce makes sure to always have a hand on Damian’s shoulder while all the other siblings are allowed to roam around freely. 

Jon tries to walk over to him but Lois stops him telling him that the birthday boy has to greet all of his guests before he’s allowed to play. He isn’t pleased with the answer but the child understands that it would be rude not to welcome everyone. Jon concludes that it would probably take a long time seeing as there were so many people there and even more still being ushered inside.

He’s forced to stay by his mother for what feels like a hundred billion years as she talks to really fancy dressed men and women, fellow reporters, and the occasional server offering her a flute of champagne. His father has long left them to chat up a group that Clark seems familiar with. He can’t really make out the faces of the people but he does notice that there is an incredibly tall dark-haired woman in the mix. 

When it appeared as though no one else was coming through the entrance the doors closed and Mr. Wayne, without saying anything, gathered everyone’s attention by raising the hand that is not holding his son. He begins to speak but because the man is so far away and surrounded by reporters he cannot understand what is being said. He wishes that someone had given him a microphone because it’s impossible for one voice to echo across a huge area. When everyone started clapping for some reason Jon did his best to clap with one of his arms incapacitated. Everyone is quick to go back to their regular chatter while Jon decides to go limp, feet falling beneath him, knowing that his mother would still be holding him up somewhat. 

Lois is used to her child’s silly antics, doesn’t acknowledge him and drags him around ignoring the weird glances the other guests are giving them. Jon feels like he is dying of boredom and is regretting coming to this party. Why do adults think just standing around and talking is fun? 

Out of the corner of his eye, he notices the girl in the pretty black dress waving at him. The girl, who Jon can’t remember the name of nor does he remember her having the time to introduce herself, walks up to him and his mom. She talks to Lois for a bit before she hands her son’s hand over to the young lady. “Jon, this is Cassandra. You stay with her and walk around okay?”

“Okay mom!” He cheers, happy that he can finally do something other than absolutely nothing. 

With that, she leads him away from the group of people his mother and father were talking to. Jon looks up at Cassandra and notes that she looks like she could be an older teenager, older than Tim but younger than Jason. She notices that he is staring at her and she gives him a large smile. Jon returns the smile before screaming in joy to where she was leading him; the cake.

“You like cake?” She asks him in a strange way. She didn’t have an accent per-say but the words she spoke in her heavy voice didn’t sound natural like her mouth wasn’t used to speaking. Jon knows it would be rude to point it out or ask so he doesn’t and just responds to her question.

“I love cake! My mom doesn’t like it when I have too much but I’m the only boy in my class that can eat lots of cake without getting a stomach ache from all the sugar!”

Her smile gets wider as she ducks down and leads Jon around the tables, giving the band a wink, and kneeling next to the cake. She makes sure that no one watches her besides the band, who pretend they don’t notice the duo, and takes a knife from the table to cut into the top layer of cake. Jon watches in horror as she takes two slices and hands the smaller piece to Jon as she takes the significant larger piece. She points to her own piece when she notices the little boy’s hesitance and says, “My layer. I give you permission to eat.”

Jon slowly eats the cake with his hands since he doesn’t have any utensils and is shocked the layer is frozen. He takes another delicious bite to conclude that he was eating chocolate ice cream cake. Blue eyes look over to the older girl only to find that she was unabashedly destroying the giant slice placing the plate to her mouth and having the cake slide into her mouth. He was very impressed that she was able to keep herself so clean while he ruined his clean hands. Cassandra notices this and grabs a pack of wet wipes that were stored under the white table cloth and cleans his hands while swallowing the remains on her treat.

“Thank you for the cake!” Jon whisper yells as she still gets all of the frosting off of his fingers. 

“You’re welcome.” She replies with her mouth still full.

“What did you mean when you said that it was your layer?”

She swallows the chocolate and points to the cake towering over them. “Bruce bought a layer for each of us. Our favorite flavor. “

“What are the other flavors? It all looks like one big chocolate cake!”

“Only frosting is chocolate. Damian layer is bottom because his party and is champagne. He doesn’t have a favorite flavor yet. My layer is top chocolate ice cream. The second small layer is for little brother, Tim; it’s a coffee cake. The second biggest is Jason and it’s Red Velvet. The middle layer is a confetti birthday cake.” Cassandra explains pointing to each layer as she describes it.

Jon looks at the monstrosity in aw before a thought pops into his head. “Wait, if your layer is ice cream then how is it not melting?”

The Asian girl looks directly into Jon’s eyes with her own black orbs before reaching up and steals the entire top layer of the cake, never breaking contact. She hands the boy a spoon she grabbed on her way down and digs her own spoon in the cake. “That's why we eat now.”

“Oh.” 

Well, he was never one for wasting cake and he’s not going to start now. Jon and Cassandra destroy the entire cake in minutes though the periodic brain freezes and having trouble swallowing fast enough. Even though the layer was the smallest it was still the size of a regular size birthday cake. When they finished the two realized that they made a mistake. Cassandra was wearing all black so she was fine eating chocolate ice cream cake without reproduction but Jon was wearing a white suit. 

A white suit that is now lightly stained in brown. 

Surprisingly the aftermath wasn’t bad but it was very noticeable meaning that if any of their parents notice they will be in a huge amount of trouble. They both stared wide-eyed at each other before the eldest one composed herself. Cassandra silently tells Jon to stay where he was as she shoved their dirty plates and utensils under the table and crawled to the other end. He didn’t wait long as she came back with Tim Drake in tow. 

Tim lets out a long sigh, which seems to be a theme in this family, and looks over Jon’s chocolate stained self. “Cass, did you just try to buy Jon’s love with cake?”

“I don’t try, I do. Am I favorite sibling?”

“He’s not our brother.”

“Doesn’t matter. Am I favorite?”

Jon thinks about the question for a bit, trying to figure out what she was asking, before just agreeing that she’s his favorite because she gave him more cake than he was ever allowed to eat. “Yes.”

“Ha!”

“Oh my god, Cass why?”

The two siblings talk in a hushed tone that Jon cannot hear when the teenage boy grabs the lapels of Jon’s suit jacket and takes it with him under the table. He was about to peek underneath the cloth but the boy popped back out as quickly as he went in with a now clean jacket. He puts it back on Jonathan and gives him a once over before standing up and looking around. He motions for the two to also stand and they do. Then the three of them walk back to the party as if nothing happened.

“Cass, isn’t it your turn to watch Damian for Jason?” Tim asks politely with a smile that’s clearly saying something else. 

Cassandra glares at him before smiling kindly but obviously not happy. “Why? It’s Jason’s job.”

“But he asked you to.”

“So?”

“You still owe him for last month.”

“Fine.” She stills at that comment and releases Jonathan’s hand gently. 

The older male kneels down to Jon and holds his hand out for the boy to take. He looks over at Cassandra who nods in approval before walking away to do who knows what. Jon takes Tim’s hand and is led around while he makes small talk with very fancy dress grown-ups. Their conversations are extremely boring because it just sounds like business work and Jon almost regrets following him. He looks around for the birthday boy only to find him still with his father talking to more adults.

For a kid’s birthday party the majority of guests are adults and there really isn’t too much to do. This is almost as bad as when he first met Damian except that there’s cake. Jon concludes that rich people were weird if this is how they think a party should be. There isn’t even anyone dancing on the dance floor or games to play. Heck, he doesn’t even see any presents around! Just then he hears the band play a familiar waltz that he can’t see to put a memory to it. 

He goes to ask what song it was when his vision blurs and he notices he’s not in the ballroom anymore but in the media room that he was locked in the first time he was at the Wayne Manor. On the large screen in front of him, the credits to a movie are playing lighting up the darkness of the room. There’s a knock on the door and Jon tells them to come in only to see someone who looks like Tim greet him but it can’t be him. This boy is a man in his twenties with sunken eyes and hair that reaches past his shoulders, not the teenager he remembers seeing. 

The man stands in front of him to block his view but for some reason, Jon’s eyes shift over the screen avoiding him. He sighs and kneels down to get down to eye level where he can’t avoid the tired gaze obviously trying to get Jon’s attention. He reaches for the remote on the armchair but the boy quickly grabs it and throws it at the man’s head. Not-Tim doges it and it’s obvious that was expecting the attack. He walks back and pulls the plastic device out of the wall where it had embedded itself only to drop it seeing that’s it’s unsalvageable.

“Jon, you’ve been in here for days.” The older man says sounding defeated for someone who only just started talking. “You have to go outside eventually, at least outside of this room and not stuck here watching Dick’s Disney movie collection.”

Unfortunately for him Jon refuses to answer and turns his head away into the cushions of the chair. Another sigh leaves the man’s chapped lips and he drags his feet on the carpet to place himself in front of the boy again. Jon wants to say something to whoever this sad person is but his body won’t listen to him. He feels like he’s trapped in someone else’s body and forced to only watch through their eyes.

A shaking hand grasp his own desperately and so tightly that if he was anyone else the bones would break. “Jon, please look at me.” The man begs yet the words coming out of his throat are wet and sloppy with wretchedness.

Jonathan doesn’t respond clearly agitated for a reason he doesn’t know. The man exhales and holds his hand tighter. “Jon, chickadee, buddy, please.” He tries again trying to regain his composure. 

The boy still doesn’t respond.

“I’m sorry.”

“You’re sorry?” He hears himself scoff but doesn’t recognize it as his voice. It’s deeper but still definitely his own and in a nasty tone that he has never used before. He finally looks the man in the face to see him crumpled onto the floor with tears streaming down his eyes. “You’re sorry?! That’s all you can say!?”

“Jon, there is nothing I could have don-”

“You could have! You always have a plan-”

“I KNOW! I always have a plan but this time I didn’t! I… How the hell was I supposed to plan for that?” His shouting breaks down into quiet sobs, but that fact just makes Jonathan bitter. 

“I dunno, you’re the adult here!” He rips his hand out of the other’s old and crosses his arms turning away from the man. The yelling doesn’t make him feel any better if anything he just feels empty.

“Jon?”

Suddenly he was back in the ballroom next to the Tim he recognized with the small group he was talking to looking at the boy concerned. “Jon, you okay there buddy?”

Jon nods his head but doesn’t really remember what happened. He listens around him and notices that the song was still playing so he must not have been daydreaming for that long. That’s the only explanation he has for what has been happening to him when he has those episodes. The teen’s blue eyes narrow as he scans the child but quickly puts on a fake smile as he goes back to talking to the adults around him. They’re reassured that the boy is fine and are about to continue their conversation when Jon pulls on the hand holding onto him and asks what music they were playing. 

“Oh this? It’s the Sleeping Beauty Waltz by Pyotr Ilyich Tchaikovsky. It was used in the old Disney movie of the same name.” Tim enlightens politely. 

“Oh Tim, you are so knowledgeable. I’ve listened to so much classical music and I just can’t keep up.” One of the older women laughs and the groups follow suit with their own stream of compliments.

“Why thank you very much-”

“I’m bored. I wanna dance.” Jon states as he would like to move around doing anything other than just stand there listening to the adults talk.

Tim sighs sympathetically and says, “I would but it’s not really a dancing kind of part-”

“I thought you said you were fun.”

“...What?” The teen froze as if slapped by a white glove as he watched the pouting child in his care. The adults around him grew silent watching the interaction with waiting breaths as if the world stopped.

“Last time I was here you said you were fun but I was just locked up in the movie room. Now I can’t dance at a party. You’re really boring for a big kid.” Jon chides the teen lightly tugging his hand to see if he could walk away and find Cassandra. She had fun and gave him some cake.

Tim, with a stiff smile plastered on his face, turns to the guest he was entertaining and excuses himself and Jonathan and heads to the empty dance floor and holds both of the boy’s hands in front of him. “Do you know how to ballroom dance?”

“Uh… No.”

“Okay then. Just stand on my feet and enjoy the ride.” Tim announces as he rearranges their position as Jon puts his heels on the taller boy’s feet. While the child is doing that Tim gestures for the band to start over and play louder. 

The music cuts off gathering everyone’s attention before they proceed to play. The music starts and Tim is off whisking Jonathan literally off his feet in a circle around the dancefloor spinning. They start off slow as the young boy gets used to the feeling of being balanced on a moving platform. It doesn’t take too long as the teen has a firm grip on Jon’s hand and back. It’s a bit awkward as the boy is taller than him but Tim is the one carrying this team and he carries it well.

The momentum of being carried around makes Jon wobbly but in that fun way moving really fast in an office chair does. Jon laughs joyously as they speed past people who have gathered around watching the two kids enjoying themselves on the dancefloor. During one portion of the dance, Jon was leaned back and could see the faces of his parents waving at him. He tries to wave back before coming to the conclusion that it would be a bad idea with all the swaying that he’s doing. 

Tim picks up the pace to go along with the tempo and Jon holds on for dear life as the moves get more complex. Tim winks at Jon and twirls him around several times before placing the boy back on his feet, not slowing down once. A few seconds of dizzying dancing later and he’s thrown in for another loop as he’s lifted and thrown into the air. His time in the air was short-lived as he was swiftly caught the exact same time the music ended. Tim makes them do a brief bow to the audience that as gathered to watch and they applaud 

The dance felt like it was too long and too short at the same time. Jon looks up at Tim, who is breathing heavily from all the activity, and cheers as he leaves his grasp. “That was really fun! Can you throw me again?” The teen chuckles at his excitement and moves to toss him up again when he hears a yell in the direction of the crowd.

“TIM!” Dick Grayson shouts running towards them and Jon looks to Tim for answers only to find the boy gone. He turns even further back to see the teen running away but is quickly captured by his older brother. “TIM YOU TRAITOR! You can dance with Jon but when I ask you always say no?”

“That’s because you’re like this Dick! Lemme go!”

“No! We are dancing and you cannot say no!” The man declares loudly as he commands the band to play another song he can dance to. He forcefully drags the younger teen who is doing his darndest to break out of his brother’s iron grip.

The party members take the events before them as a sign that this was not just a regular gala but a full-on ball and some of the guests start breaking off into pairs to dance to the music. Jon watches other people sway to the music and thinks that this really is a party from a storybook. He’s extremely disappointed that he won’t be thrown in the air again as he watches the Wayne sibling duo merrily move to the music but doesn’t make a fuss about it seeing everyone have fun.

A small tan hand tightly grasps his shoulder causing Jon to turn around to meet venomous eyes. “Ooh, he looks angry.” Jon obviously thinks as he gazes into the enraged scowl of one Damian Wayne. The boy nervously grins at the boy and does his best attempt at a greeting. ”Uh... Hey Dami, how’s the party?”

The furious grimace morphs into an uncharacteristic charming smile that manages to strike fear into the little boy more than any other expression he’s ever seen in his short time knowing the youngest Wayne. The grip on his shoulder tightens as the smile widens. “Jonathan, did you just assist Drake in showing me up at my own party?”

“Um… No?” He doesn’t think he did at least.

“Really now? Because it looks like you did.” Wow, that smile would honestly be very charming if Jon didn’t know it was the largest red flag he’s ever seen in his life. 

“I mean, no? Like I was really bored and wanted to dance.”

“And why in the world would you want to do that?”

“Honestly this party is really boring. Where are all the games? How come there aren’t any other kids here?” Jon points out gesturing to all the adults around them.

The facade drops as he sighs, rubbing the temples of his head in calming circles. “This isn’t some childish festivity-”

“It’s your birthday party. I think that counts.”

“This is a ruse meant to integrate myself into Gotham’s high society and allow me to show face in public without the media to make wild claims about my existence.” Damian explains in a hushed tone pulling the child closer.

“Damian, you’re using words I haven’t learned yet and I don’t think it’s fair.” 

“Whatever.” The boy huffs and releases the boy in his grasp. “I do have to admit that these events are not much fun at all. These imaginary pleasantries are an excuse for people with too much money and little sense to lord their wealth over each other.”

It’s Jon’s turn to sigh as he realizes that he’s going to have to get used to Damian’s strange ways of speaking but is glad that at least it’s still English. “So it’s one dumb contest?”

“Exactly.”

“Well is there anything you want to do? It’s your party.”

“Seeing as Father has finally freed me from his grasp it is only right that we should enjoy ourselves with the food. Father has even prepared a 5-tier ca-... 4-tiered cake to be made in my honor.” He suggests looking inquisitively to the buffet table. “Then we can escape to a more secluded place because I will kill someone if I have to hear another minute of my father schmoozing up to peasants below his standing.”

Jon does his very best to not look guilty at the cake comment as they walk over to the table and pick out some snacks that they’ve never seen before. Both boys are equally confused by the array spread out before them but don’t say anything as they randomly place different kinds on their plate. They get to the desserts and notice that it’s (for the most part) untouched. 

“How come there are no candles on the cake?” Jon asks leaning side to side as he notices that this supposed birthday cake doesn’t have any candles on it. 

“You mean for that silly wish tradition?” Damian asks as he takes his plates up the stairs without waiting for the other child. Said child quickly grabs a handful of cookies and follows him with his own plate. 

“Yeah, for your birthday wish silly.” 

Damian turns and walks to one of the many balconies of the ballroom and closes the door behind Jonathan while the boy takes in the vast darkness of the ocean below them. “Mmm, I don’t see the point of it.” 

“Wow, you are bad at this.” Jon monotones with an expression Damian has never seen before. He hates it more than he’s ever hated anything in his life. The small turn of his lips, the lower frow of the boy’s bushy brows, and he especially hates the way Jon’s bright sky blue eyes dim as if Damian was something to look down upon. 

“Excuse me?” He hisses placing his plate on the ledge of the railing separating them from the nearly 20 story drop into the Atlantic below them. Damian glares at the boy but he knows that the intimidation tactics used in the league do not appear to affect the people outside. Just another thing to hate about the outside world these plebeians dwell in. 

“Birthdays. You are really bad at birthdays.” Jon elaborates putting his plate next to Damian’s and indignantly placing his hands on his hips in a firm action of disbelief. “I only know like, six things about you and none of them are good.”

“And that would be?” The older child challenges daring the younger to continue. 

And Jon very much accepts his challenge but it’s obvious that he didn’t understand the threat that had been laid down before him. “You’re mean, you have a lot of knives, you like hurting others, you have no friends, you’re constantly angry, and you are really really bad at birthdays.” He lists counting each reason on his fingers mockingly. 

“Do you want to continue talking or should I just cut out your tongue now?”

“See, this is what I mean. Who does that?”

The question greatly confused him as it’s something that he’s never had questioned before. “I do that and my entire family does that.”

“...Batma-” Damian is quick to cover the other’s mouth because while there is no one around them or on the adjacent balconies it was quickly made clear to him that there shall be no talk of his family’s vigilante lifestyle

“Quiet! No not him. My maternal family.” He hisses quietly while slowly removing his hands from the white-suited boy’s lips. He’s beginning to see a pattern here. 

“Your family is weird. I don’t think people here do that, it’s kind of evil.”

Ah, another statement the Demon’s son has heard many times during the week he has been assimilating himself into the Wayne clan. “Why do people keep telling me that? Saying that my behaviors are inherently evil?” Damian steadily questions because having to diminish himself to seeking information from someone inferior to him is excruciatingly agonizing to his pride. 

“You’re kidding right?” Jon’s posture relaxes as he leans his weight on one foot examing the boy before tensing at the inquisitive expression on Damian’s face. His jaw nearly drops and the older child has to hold back his eyes from rolling at the display before him. “Holy crap you’re not kidding.” 

“I wouldn’t ask someone of your standing if I didn’t think you held some sort of insight.” Damian forces the words out of gritted teeth and sharpening his glare. 

“Thanks?” 

“Jonathan, the question.”

“Oh, right. Uh…”

“For someone so chatty you seem to hold your tongue when it matters.” He derides and looks away from the silent boy pondering next to him. Damian leans forward, putting all of his weight against the metal railing in front of him as he stares into the darkness of the ocean and thinks of home. How many miles from his island was he? What was his mother doing? Did Goliath miss him? He isn’t so lost in his meaningless thoughts because he hears the Son of the Alien speak.

“You want to hurt people,” Jon says in a quiet yet strong voice that catches his interest. “People who are good, who want to do good, don’t go out looking to hurt anyone.”

“Hurt? You, the son of a being stronger than entire armies, do not wish anyone harm but still wishes to be a superhero?” Damian laughs in a way that holds no humor. 

“Yes, I do.” There was no room for argument in the boy’s progressively more confident demeanor but Damian dares argue anyways. 

“Doesn’t Superman hurt people? He has to if he wants to do his job.”

“Well, yeah but he only hurts people that are gonna hurt other people.”

It appears that the child will never cease to amuse Damian in his remarkably flawed mindset. “And wouldn’t that still be in the realm of hurting someone?”

“I mean, yeah? But it’s different! You just wouldn’t get it.”

“My apologies then for being blind to your erroneous paragons then.” Damian scoffs with not an ounce of actual remorse.

Apparently Jon was too thick in the head to understand that he was insulted and graciously says, “Apology accepted.”

The older child decides it is best not to correct the other boy and goes back to staring out at the ocean. Normally he would be checking for enemies nearby but in this place, he is the enemy. He knows that his father’s female protege is watching them from a hidden location; more importantly, she’s watching him. The nerve of this place to assume that he would do anything that would bring shame to his father while in public is unsurmountable. 

He doesn’t understand why everything was so different. Damian knew the moment his mother guided him out of the island things would be different but he didn’t expect it to be like this. This is a hell where the weak and simple-minded thrive and are praised for their inferiority. The greatest example of this injustice is directly to this left obnoxiously stuffing his face with a plate of random hors d'oeuvre.

He glares at the child with the chubby cheeks full of food he should most have definitely swallowed earlier with crumbs falling all over his designer suit. Damian has been in the manor for exactly one week and can see the disdain his “siblings” have for him in his eyes. Even his own father looks at him like he was an actual monster who was invading his abode. Damian is not blind and he notices the flash of rage in his father’s eyes when he looks at him. He sees the hesitance to stand near him. He sees how his father’s touch is no warmer than a smack to the face bestowed upon him by his grandfather. The contact is meant to ground him and remind Damian about where his place in this family lies.

He’s just a liability to these fools.

But here is this stupid kid next to him that was able to do what Damian has been trying to do for the last week; to gain his family’s affection. According to his extensive research family was supposed to look out for each other, standby each other, and most important not be enemies. The League of Assassins was many things to Damian but they were most definitely family according to those definitions. 

Damian is definitely prideful. He is not afraid to admit his flaws to himself (out loud is an entirely different story) and he knows that his actions when he first came here were not the correct series of actions. If he was going to kill the current holder of the Robin mantel he should have done so discreetly and not show his intents right away like some sort of amateur. Damian knew better than that but he let his pride and wrath get in the way of rational thought. This is why his family believes him to be nothing more than a hindrance.

This is why they don’t love him.

But they love Jonathan who by all accounts should be more useless to them than he is. 

“How do you do it?” Damian finds himself asking aloud startling the poor boy like a nervous chipmunk. 

“Do what?” Jon replies with his mouth full trying to finish his food. 

He sighs and rubs the temples of his head again to calm himself down lest he says something he’ll regret. “Get everyone wrapped around your finger with nothing more than empty accolades and vexatious smiles.”

“Are you asking why people like me?”

“If that helps you make sense of it then yes.”

The gears turning around in Jonathan’s skull could be heard for miles if anyone bothered to listen hard enough. His face scrunches in thought as he anxiously answers, “Cause I’m nice? And I don’t think everyone likes me. You don’t like me even though I’m trying to be your friend.”

“And how’s that going for you?”

“Really really hard.” The boy answers honestly with a bit of spite that he only seems to use in Damian’s presence. “You could at least try and be nice back.”

“And what would that entail?” He questions rolling his eyes. 

“I dunno. Didn’t your mom teach you manners before you got here?”

“I have impeccable manners.” He hisses proving the contrary to the other. 

Jon shakes his head disappointingly and explains, “But like, the being nice and kind types of manners! You know, like always treating others the way you want to be treated, if you don’t have anything nice to say then don’t say anything at all, and sharing is caring.”

“...No, I do not believe that those ever came up in any of my classes.” Damian says almost in awe at the sheer stupidity of the other’s words.

“Then what did you learn?”

“Martial arts, weaponry, chemistry, computer science, history, fine arts-”

“That’s a lot of advanced stuff.” The younger interrupts knowing he won’t understand more if he kept going.

“I suppose for you it would be.”

Jon huffs in frustration at the statement but decides that it would be best to switch topics. “What did the other kids do on your palace island? Didn’t you have friends there?”

“Other kids… mmm… I believe for the longest time it was only my cousin and I. There was the occasional traveler such as Cain and Todd but I never got to meet them during their stint there.” Infinity Island does indeed house many assassins and servants, even those who are couples, but no child is allowed to be born unless they have permission from the demon’s head himself. He hasn’t been known to allow such things so freely. Damian thinks that if there were more children around he wouldn’t be able to meet them as they would have been in a significantly lower status than him.

“And you never talked to them?” Jon asks curiously. 

“I did not. I didn’t even know they were part of my father’s clan until after I arrived in Gotham.” 

“What about your cousin?”

Ah Mara. Damian thinks about the sheer joy his mother praised him for when he cut out one of her eyes. To this day he’s never seen his mother more pleased aside from the day he was named heir to his grandfather’s legacy. A small grin falls on his features as he recalls the girl. “She learned the same as me but I would hardly believe we were on friendly terms let alone friends. If we were anything it would be rivals but that is the kindest I am willing to be as she was never any real competition. I was taught that human companionship is nothing but a hindrance. I was born to lead an army of skilled fighters and the potential weakness of friendship is nothing more than a distraction. From by understanding friends are a luxury gifted to those that do not understand the importance of-”

“God I hate you.” Damian hears Jonathan groan throwing his head back.

“What?” The word “hate” shocks him but not to a point where it’s hurtful. He’s just surprised the child even knows that word with how pleasant he likes to present himself as. 

Jon flushes red with embarrassment and something else the Demon’s son cannot quite distinct from his body language alone and sputters out some sort of excuse for his outburst. “Sorry, that came out of my mouth wrong. I mean you’re really mean and I don’t really like you yet even though I wanna be your friend, but hate is too strong of a word. Actually I think I do hate you but only because you’re you.”

“I hope you understand that you make no sense.”

“I don’t know enough words to explain what I’m feeling. I hate that your family taught you that and made you into someone so… hate-able. Sorry, I know hate is a really bad word-”

“Hate doesn’t seem as comparatively bad of a word as you would think.” Damian laughs already thinking of several different words in many languages that can be used to describe a more volatile emotion than the mere four-letter word. 

“Really? Huh. Well if that’s it then I hate you.” The child concludes nonchalantly as if he just decided the dislike of a person in the same manner one would decide what they would have for dinner. 

“Happy to hear it.” Damian huffs going back to his brooding when he suddenly hears the shattering of fine china on the stone they stand on. 

He looks to the other to find him in a trance of some sort. This must be a thing that happens to the boy often as Damian recalls Jonathan going through a similar state when they met in the guestroom. He didn’t really get to test the extreme’s of his certain condition so he decides that now is as good a time as any. Before he does anything though he stands in front of the glass door to block the view of the seven-year-old from his so-called sister who is watching them inside from that direction. 

The first thing Damian does is grab his own plate of fancy snacks and try to feed Jonathan one. Predictably the food just falls from his mouth meaning that he doesn’t have control of his actions even on a subconscious level. The next thing he tries is snapping on either side of his head to see if the boy shows any indication of hearing him. The results are inconclusive because while Jon doesn’t react he can’t officially rule out the possibility. 

Then he grabs the smartphone his father gifted him to use the flashlight to check his eyes. His irises are clouded and turn his normal sky blue eyes into more of a royal blue. They still dilated normally but Damian has never heard of such a thing occurring in a person. Lastly, he lightly pushes Jonathan’s body only to have it immediately topple over and nearly slam his head if Damian didn’t catch him. 

It was then whatever influence Jonathan was under seemed to cease jolting his tiny body as if he were struck with lightning screaming, “DAMI, LEAVE ME BEHIND YOU’RE GONNA DROWN!”

Damian almost drops the boy in his arms but regains his composure enough to just stand him back on his feet. “I highly doubt we’ll drown on dry land.” He affirms unmistakably gesturing at all the air they’re currently breathing. 

“I… What?” Jon gasps as he looks around him. 

“Would you like to tell me what that was about or do you just want me to guess?” He scoffs taking his hands off of the white suit and walks back to his designated brooding ledge. 

“I… Sorry. That’s been happening a lot. It’s kind of like a dream that I have while I’m awake and don’t really remember afterward but I know that they happen.” Jon explains holding the railing of the balcony and wincing at the sight of the broken plate at his feet. “Oops.”

“So like an actual dream.”

Jon shrugs replying, “Kinda but I usually remember my dreams.”

“I don’t.” Danian said.

“That’s sad. You’re a sad person.”

“I’m a lot of bad things according to you.” He states with a shrug.

Jon’s eyes widen at his words before a crestfallen expression settles on his face. He looks down in shame before nervously reaching his right hand out to Damian before having it harshly slapped away. He sighs and tries again, this time able to get a comforting touch on the boy’s shoulder. “Look… I’m sorry I called you all those bad things. And I don’t hate you, I just hate everything about you.” The boy tries his best to elaborate but knowing that it still sounds really bad and mean. He’s not really following the “If you have nothing good to say don’t say anything at all” rule.

“Is this supposed to make me feel better?” Damian deadpans with an amused smile as he watches the younger child flounder on dry land. 

“Yes? I mean I have this really strong feeling that we can be best friends and great superhero partners but I can’t be doing everything!” He shouts but stops himself from full-on screaming and deeply inhales obviously trying to calm himself down.

Damian Laughs one of his malicious laughs shaking the hand on him off and roughly shoves the boy away. “You’re the one doing everything? I’m the one with all the plans!” 

Jon runs his hands through his styled hair, thoroughly messing up his black locks, and makes several new kinds of sounds clearly meant to emulate frustration. He throws his palms down and grabs the lapels of Damian’s green accented suit so fast if the assassin didn’t know better he would have mistaken it for superspeed. Damian could easily get out of the grasp but decided against it when he saw the look of the pure rage of Jonathan. He might as well hear out the boy if he ever plans on working with him.

“I mean teamwork! I can’t work with a meany who keeps being a jerk to me and I get it. Being nice is apparently something you never learned so if we are going to make whatever we’re doing work we have to do it together! You can’t just keep insulting me and trying to hurt me while expecting me to follow. I’m not one of your ass… asses… whatever the word is! You’re not on the island anymore so things are different here so get used to it!” The boy grits through his teeth getting progressively getting louder with each sentence.

“You’re starting to make sense,” Damian admits because this angry version of Jonathan is much harder to get under his control and he would rather not use some of his mother’s more… ethically compromising methods to get someone to listen to him. “and how should our partnership go seeing as it is clear my usual methods of thralldom clearly don’t apply to you.”

“Well, you could not be a jerk. Be a nice person, maybe?” Jon huffs as he lets go of the expensive clothes.

“I make no promises,” Damian says honestly because he cannot keep up such a ruse.

Jon gives the boy a strained smile as green eyes could see the thoughts cluttering the boy’s head when the smile suddenly becomes genuine. It’s strange to see such a metamorphosis when none of Jon’s features shifted and with the child’s regained positive composure grins wider showing his bright teeth. “We can do something I want to do and you can also at least try treating me better. You know, like a ‘companion’ since you apparently don’t like the word friend so much?”

“So you want me to treat you like I would my dear Goliath?” Damian jokes but Jonathan did not quit his cheerfulness at what was supposed to get his statement down.

He just continues being his joyful self grabbing both of Damian’s hands into his own, stares at him directly in the eyes and says with all seriousness, “If you’re nicer to him than you are to me then yeah, sure.”

Damian couldn’t get himself out of his touch fast enough, nearly balling backward off of the ledge of the balcony in the process. Thankfully he isn’t some amateur and was able to regain his composure. He glares at the Kent boy telling him, “You’re weird. You’re really weird.”

“That’s okay! Hey, we should probably go tell someone about the broken plate.” Jon states opening the doors and going back inside to the party. He holds the door waiting for Damian to follow which he does reluctantly but without much complaint. “Don’t kill anyone.”

“I won’t.” Damian groans.

“Whatever you say!” Jon skips his way downstairs and quickly tells a waiter about the plate. 

The two look at the gala seeing that most people were still talking to each other about really boring stuff. There were still people on the dance floor and it appears that Dick and Tim were still dancing about less onesided than when they began. At a distance, they can see Jason making signs at Cassandra, who was on the opposite walkway than where the balconies where she had clearly been watching the boys. Jon is about to go greet the tall man he hasn’t seen since the gala started when he’s stopped by the older boy who yanks him back.

“Jon, no.” Damian sighs when he has his attention. “Let’s not talk to Todd.”

“Why not?”

“He already has his presence everywhere. I’d rather not have to be near him if circumstances allow it.” He sees the blank look Jon is giving him and does his best to explain himself further. “If I’m seen with any of my father’s wards I’m instructed to ‘be civil’ and ‘act like they’re family.’”

“But… aren’t they family?” Jon asks.

“Jon, I've only known them for a week at most and I met Cassandra yesterday. They are not family.” Damian elaborates crossing his arms and looking extremely uncomfortable by this line of questioning.

“Oh… I guess that makes sense?” Jon says not fully understanding but getting the hint that Damian believes that they’re strangers. “Then what do ya wanna do?” 

“I’m not dancing if that’s what you’re implying.” He says, noticing that Jonathan’s eyes subconsciously wander to where Grayson and Drake are. 

“It was really fun though!” Jon protests. 

“Maybe for you because you were just jostled around by the imposter but if you actually had to go out there and waltz to classical music, would you?” 

Jon pouts thinking about it then shakes his head. “No, I guess not. I only know the macarena, the YMCA, and the electric slide. I don’t think they’ll play it here.” He lists each dance on his fingers before frowning at the extremely small number. 

“If it’s anything like whatever I keep hearing Grayson listen to I highly doubt it.” Damian groans.

“Are there any birthday party games?” 

“Games? Like what?”

Jon sighs at the obvious answer. “I dunno but it’s a dumb question to ask. There are only adults here so there probably won’t be a pinata.”

Danian clicks his tongue to the roof of his mouth and sneers at a thought he was having. “-Tt- I guess beating the life out of a paper mache object would be fun but alas those are banned from the manor.”

“What? Why?” 

“Apparently when Todd was introduced during his gala he beat the pinata Father gifted him so viciously that he terrified the masses; he caused Father to lose face.”

Jon winces even though he doesn’t understand the term; he just knows it’s bad. “Oh, that’s bad.”

“Most things are banned because of him.” He shrugs.

“Well what isn’t banned? Is tag or hide-and-seek banned?”

“I discovered earlier that I just can’t hide away as Grayson has an impeccable talent for finding me in even the highest places-”

“No, I mean the game! I mean if hiding is banned then how about Tag?” Jon is starting to believe that Damian doesn’t know any games but keeps trying anyway. 

“What’s Tag?”

“I guess you didn’t learn that on the island. That makes sense seeing as there weren’t any other kids there. It’s a game where one person is ‘it’ and being ‘it’ means that they have to chase the people who aren’t ‘it’. And if the person who’s ‘it’ touches someone who isn’t then that means that the role switches.” The child does his best to explain but he feels like he’s just rambling. 

“So it’s just like capture and evasion training.”

“Probably? But when you tag someone then you have to shout ‘Tag, you’re it!”

“This seems easy.”

“It is but sometimes people add rules to make it more complicated.”

“This isn’t so different from one of my training practices,” Damian verifies with a strong affirmative nod. “Abit less dangerous but Father did say that the more deathly ventures where to be forgone.” 

“That must mean this should be easy for you!” Jon cheers gleefully because he’s finally suggested something Damian is familiar with. 

“Of course and if you’re my opponent then it isn’t really much of a challenge.” The older boy mocks with a malicious grin. 

Jon pouts at the accusation and stomps his foot on the ground. “Hey, I am a tag master! No one in my class has been able to tag me!”

“So we are going under the assumption that I, someone who has been trained my entire, is ‘it’. I am the predator and you are prey?” Damian deadpans staring at Jon. 

The younger child just shrugs, rolling his eyes. “Sure, you can be ‘it’.”

“And when do I know when to give chase?”

“Uh… Give me a 10-second headstart?” He replies naming a random time. 

“And are you adding any additional rules?”

“No hurting me? I guess you really can’t but-”

“I can’t outright attack you, understood.”

“Do you want to add some rules?”

Damian thinks for a moment then takes off his tuxedo jacket, folding it over his forearm. “I’m not allowed to leave the ballroom so I expect you to follow the same rule.”

“Is that everything?” Jon asks seeing that the other was getting ready to give chase and backing away slowly. 

“Since this game isn’t banned I don’t believe we have to add any extra protocols.”

“Good! Okay, so…” Jon drawls out making sure that not too many people weren’t behind him before shouting, “Start!” and dashing off as fast as his little feet can take him.

Immediately Jon knows that was a bad idea because there were adults everywhere but Jon is no quitter and has committed to making Damian play a childish game. The moment the 10-second mark hits he hears the rapidly approaching clicks of dress shoes behind him but when Jon turns around he doesn’t see anyone. When he looks forward again he almost headbutts into Damian who somehow got in front of him. The smaller boy is only saved from being tagged because it’s clear that the other expected him to freeze in shock instead of plowing through him. Jon doesn’t wait to see if he’s okay as he realizes that if he’s tagged then he most likely would never be able to catch Damian. 

A large muscular hand adorned with red tries to stop Jon but Jon just ducks under the arm and continues sprinting. Behind him, he can hear the shocked gasp of Jason shouting, “Are you brats seriously playing tag?!”

Jon doesn’t reply and out of the corner of his eye, he can see Jason also failing to capture Damian, who skids underneath his legs before continuing the chase. Dang, Jon really wished that he at the very least slowed him down. Blue eyes quickly scan around for a better path to evade Damian when he notices that the dance floor is mostly empty aside from the occasional couple and Dick who is forcing a very dizzy Tim to continue dancing with him. Jon quickly heads there and in a moment of clarity, or utter stupidity, he takes off the extremely uncomfortable dress shoes on his feet and throws them behind him. 

Damian easily dodges them and angrily shouts, “I thought attacks were against the rules!” But he honestly doesn’t seem that mad if the smile on his face is anything to go by.

“That’s just for you!” Jon shouts back, “There’s no rule against me doing it!”

With less traction underneath him, the seven-year-old runs and slides past Damian’s brothers who are shocked at the display of violence they just witnessed from the seemingly kind boy. The second oldest brother pushes past his brothers, making them crash into the floor, as he also tries to catch Jon. “Don’t just stand there, get them!” The other two boys scramble to their feet and go back to stop Damian while Jason is right on Jon’s tail. 

“Why are you chasing me, you aren’t ‘it’!?” Jon squeals narrowly avoiding the man’s very grabby hands. 

“Tag is banned!”

“You never said that!”

“I’m saying it now!”

“You’re not the boss of me!”

“DAMIAN WHAT HAVE YOU BEEN TEACHING HIM!” Jason shouts over his shoulder in time to see that the newest addition to the family has somehow gotten into the chandeliers. “Oh my God, B is gonna kill me!”

“Damian, get down from there!” Tim shouts before screaming when his eldest brother jumps from the tables and onto the hanging crystals to the horror of the guest around them. 

“Hey, that’s cheating!” Jon shouts pointing accusingly.

“What was it that you said?” Damian taunts as he swings over to another chandelier, “Ah, that’s right, ‘There’s no rule against me doing it.’”

“...Okay, fair.” And then Jon is running again.

Unfortunately, he’s running past the dessert tables when Damian shoots himself from the rafters and tackles Jon. This wouldn’t have been such a problem if it wasn’t for the fact that the force of it knocked them into the 4-tier confection. The cake topples offer and off the table with the children inside. The two screech as they hit the floor covered in an assortment of different flavors and chocolate frosting. Thankfully cake is an exceptionally wonderful cushion. 

The two look at the mess around them and it’s clear neither have the heart to look over the table to see how much trouble they’re in. Jon is about to be the brave on and stand when a handful of Red Velvet smashed into his face. After he wipes the pastry out of his eyes he stares at a laughing, honest to God laughing, Damian who is literally caught red-handed.

“Tag.” He says with a superior leer.

Jon stares blankly at the other for exactly 10 seconds before taking a handful of confetti cake and slamming it right back into the other. “Tag!” He shouts back. 

The two get into a very short-lived food fight yelling “tag” every time another piece of cake is used as a weapon. The two are covered when a stern cough captures their attention to where Dick Grayson was towering above them. Damian, not one to shrink under pressure like his companion, throws the man’s favorite flavor right into his face. The man was about to shout something then Damian threw another piece at him.

In retaliation, Dick grabs a large chunk of champagne cake and drops it on his little brother. Jon, seeing that he’s not being shouted at, throws coffee cake at the man but he dodges it. A screech lets the three to Tim, who was on the other side of the table and now has cake in his hair. Jon squeals out a quick apology when a large piece of the pastry they’re all lying in is dropped on Damian and Dick from behind. They all look back only to see that Bruce freaking Wayne behind them.

Never before has a man looked so menacing with cake on his hands. 

The man smiles at the mess before him and the children (plus very adult son) waddling in the cake. Everyone is still in anticipation before the man cooly asks, “Where’s Jason?”

Neither of the siblings' present sees the man in question until Cassandra, who was walking down the stair in the deafeningly silent ballroom, tattles loudly, “He’s right there!” She points in the direction the man was walking clearly trying to leave the party that is clearly still happening.

“You fucking snitch-” He yells but is stopped by coffee cake to the side of the head. Infuriated he turns to look at who threw it to see Tim with a patronizing smile on his face. “Did you jus-”

“We’re all getting grounded anyways, might as well earn it.” He justifies moving behind the table and spiking a piece of Red Velvet onto his youngest brother’s face. 

That’s when the entire Wayne Clan descended into madness.

Jon is quickly pulled out of the chaos by his father and taken to a secluded corner where Lois Lane-Kent is furiously waiting. Jon does his best to phase into his father’s broad chest praying that invisibility is a power he has but alas he’s ear is pulled while shouting about how irresponsible he was. Partway through her lecture a rogue piece of chocolate frosting lands in her hair causing her to be still. She gives a look to her husband and he doesn’t need to even ask what she means when he scoops some of the sugary mess off his son and hurls it towards Batman.

When Bruce turns to see who hit him in the shoulder he’s met by another piece to the face via Jon’s mom. She sprints into the fray of the food fight and the guest either starts running away or joining in the battle. The group his father was talking to earlier starts to grab treats from the other tables and the incredibly tall woman from before throws an entire tray of cookies at Clark’s head. The man delicately puts down his son and chuckles at his astonished expression. “You know Sport, this is actually not the worst thing to happen at one of Bruce’s kids’ birthday parties.”

“It isn’t?” Jon asks, shocked as he watches a scene straight from a movie play out before him. 

“Not by a long shot.” With that said Superman picks up an armful of cookies and chucks them at the woman as he runs into battle. “Diana, catch!”

As Jon watches the adults act like complete children a tap on his shoulder alerts him to Damian, who is significantly more stained then when he last left him. Damian watches the adults briefly then turns back to the boy with a light hum. “I definitely took the game a bit… far.”

“Yeah, ya did.” Jon states because there was nothing else he could reply with.

“Is this… Did I…” Damian begins but is having trouble looking for the words to say. “Am I doing it right? Is this how normal kids here are supposed to act?”

No. Absolutely not because every normal kid Jon knows wouldn’t jump on chandeliers and tackle people into giant cakes just to win a game of Tag. He doesn’t say that of course because even though Damian’s expression is neutral it’s clear that he was trying his best. That and the fact that his entire family, Jon’s family, and a plethora of other people are doing the same thing Damian did probably indicate that it’s not normal but it’s his normal.

“Did you have fun?” Jon answers with a bright grin. 

The boy quirks his brow up in thought before replying, “I suppose I did.”

“Then yes, you’re doing it right.” Jon chuckles, Damian’s laughter following behind. “Next time, we should play at my house! It’s not as fancy but it would be easier to clean up.”

“Sure, plus I did promise to listen to your suggestions more.”

Jon’s grin grows wider and he practically tackles the other in a messy frosting filled hug. This did end up being a pretty fun birthday party by the end. He feels significantly better about getting to know Damian and being his friend because while before he felt like it was his obligation it is now just something he can see them being. Jon just hopes that he only gets better from here on out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And then Alfred grounded everyone.


	5. Flawed Designs (Part 1)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Damian goes to visit Jon's home and plan their superhero costumes!

The air was dry in his throat yet humid on his skin as Damian Al-Ghul-Wayne exited this father’s private jet. When Bruce announced that they were visiting his “friend” at his home the boy expected to visit Superman’s fortress in the arctic that he read about on his father’s files that he hacked into. What he was not expecting but should have realized is that the man was referring to Superman’s civilian home. Overall the young assassin thought that Superman’s secret life was very well crafted because someone with God-like powers would never reduce himself to...this.

All around them in the tiny remote rural airport that they landed in was tall grass, a barn, and a whole bunch of nothing. It sickens Damian to his core to think that anyone would be willing to live in such a place willingly. Damian walks down the stairs of the aircraft to catch up with his father who is waiting patiently at the bottom of the stairs in his casual clothing, a black golfing polo and designer khakis; two words Damian believes should never be in the same sentence. 

Bruce hold’s his hand as they wait for Pennyworth to drive up with their car. Sadly the vehicle isn’t one of his father’s more luxurious classic vehicles, but the base model Wayne Tec electric car. They enter the vehicle and drive off the short distance to Hamilton county, a backwoods country bumpkin small town he deduces as they drive past farms and rustic style shops. In about 15 minutes the group of three finally make it to the Kent family farm and Damian is immediately underwhelmed by the ratty wooden house with an aged white picket fence around the border. 

Damian is almost impressed by the lengths that these so-called heroes would go to just to protect their secret identity if they have to resort themselves to this. The family makes their way up the dirt path to the house when the plastic and metal screen door slams open to reveal a very soaking wet dog dragging around a certain indestructible little boy by a bright red leash. 

“Aaaaaaaahhhhhhh! Krypto stop! I just cleaned you!” The boy screams as he’s dragged through the lawn and hanging on for dear life.

Behind him, a young female with long blond hair, who Damian recognizes from his father’s files as Supergirl, chases after the child and dog. While the two try their best to wrangle the super-powered canine Clark Kent in all his muddy flannel and blue jean glory jovially strides out in a calmer manner than the other two members of his family. He readjusts his skewed thick lenses and shakes hands with the servant and Bruce.

“Hey there Alfred, Bruce. Been a while huh?”

“It seems that we came at a bad time.” The man jokes pointing at the scene playing before them.

The other man laughs and shyly fixes the baseball cap on his head while avoiding eye contact. “You sure did. Lois wanted Krypto cleaned up before she got home from work today and as you can see it… It’s a bit of a work in progress.”

The older grey-haired man chuckles at the situation and leans forward a bit to see the inside of the house. “It appears that the dog isn’t the only thing that needs cleaning around here.”

Clark laughs nervously again and scratches the back of his neck. “Yeah, well that’s what happens when you try to give a super dog a quick hose-down with the kitchen sprayer. Gonna take me an hour to get everything tidy.”

“Mister Kent, would you like any help with the clean up before your wife comes home and sees this?” Alfred offers already stepping into the stained living room. 

The larger man blocks him in his tracts by acting as a wall. “Alfred, I appreciate the offer but you’re my guest. It would be rude to have you clean up my messes.”

“Don’t you have super speed Alien? You could obviously do it in seconds if you so desire.” Damian insults, causing their host to remember their little guest of honor. 

Clark crouches down to the boy’s height, infuriating him to no end, as he sticks out his hand in a friendly greeting. “Well hello Damian, I almost forgot to greet you. How are you doing?”

“Don’t ignore my question.” He hisses ignoring the gesture.

“Right, of course,” The man retracts his hand slowly and stands back up while trying his best not to appear affected by the child’s rude mannerisms. “I’m not allowed to use my powers inside the house. We have a strict rule against it so everything is done the old fashioned way; by hand.”

“Why?” Damian asks completely perplexed.

The farmer just nonchalantly shrugs as he starts to head to the kitchen to grab a wet rag. “Oh, you know, to keep up our normal everyday lives.”

“That is exactly why I have the no-capes policy in the manor.” The butler adds in following their host. Damian looks around with disdain at the homely living area and is outright disgusted. Even if this place wasn’t covered in mud he would find the abode of Superman disgusting. No wonder Jonathan was such a simple plebeian.

When Superman noticed that Damian didn’t follow the group to the kitchen, where he dared to sever the richest man in Gotham instant coffee and walked back up to him. “Jon will be ready to play once he helps Kara give Krypto another bath. It might take half an hour at most. Do you want to join us in the kitchen?”

“And be served repulsive drinks? No.”

“Damian.” His father begins to chastise but is stopped by Clark who just shakes his head. He turns his attention back to the ten-year-old and leads him up creaky wooden stairs to a more accommodating and clean waiting area. 

“This is Jon’s room. It ain’t as fancy as what you’re probably used to but it’s pretty cool. I’m sure Jon won’t mind if you wait here a bit.”

Damian looks around the cluttered room and grunts as it’s at least not covered in mud. Scanning the room he notices that it’s extremely small, the bed is pushed against the window ledge as it’s the only place the frame could obviously fit. The place couldn’t be bigger than his closet and that’s Damian being generous. He wanders around to get a grasp of the place and finds it filled with silly toys, old games, and every type of Superman memorabilia that a normal child could want. 

A normal child.

Even though Damian’s time in his new home has been short he is beginning to realize that his life is not what most would consider normal. He doesn’t have toys, doesn’t watch silly cartoons, or decorates his room with bright cheerful furnishings. A room represents a lot about a person and when he thinks about his room back at the island he remembers lavish silks and ornate chairs with walls filled with beautifully crafted blades. He thought that his old room suited the heir to the demon head perfectly.

But he sees that it doesn’t suit him.

He remembers Pennyworth showing him his room for the first time and asking him how he wanted to decorate it. He remembers just shoving the man away and closing the door because he didn’t want to admit that he didn’t know what he wanted to do. Jon’s room was filled with life and history even if it’s a bit messy while Damian’s own room right now is spotless but empty. 

“You know, your dad could buy you a few decorations for your own room. It’s only been under two weeks since you got here, so you probably still have some room to work with.” The farmer behind him calls out causing the boy to almost jolt where he was standing.

Damian replies with a nonchalant “hm” as he does his best to ignore the Man of Steel. Clark gets the hint that he’s not needed and heads back downstairs. The half Arabic child moves to inspect the room ignoring the pang of sadness every time he encounters something that reminds him that his own way of life might be lacking in some way. He opens the window next to Jonathan’s twin-sized bed to find that the lock is broken. There also doesn’t seem to be any locks on the doors. For the son of Superman, it seems like the boy isn’t cautious enough to believe that he wouldn’t be a target. So much so that he ignores the rock bottom requirements for security to the point Damian is surprised that he even has a door. 

The permeating smell of a wet dog fills his nostrils and he turns to find that Jonathan is standing at the entranceway to the room soaking wet while covered in mud and grass. The child nervously scratches the back of his head with a shy grin and flushed cheeks as he apologizes for his appearance. “Sorry Dami, I guess I lost track of time. Pa said that I shouldn’t keep you waiting for much longer so I rushed a bit.” 

Damian held back the robust urge to correct that infuriating reduction of his name as he replies, “You’ve been forgiven. Now do something about your appearance; you have been literally dragged through the mud.” 

“Oh! Right…” He yelps as the seven-year-old quickly grabs a change of clothes from worn-down drawers and loudly sprints down the hall to most likely what is the bathroom. 

Damian only has to wait ten minutes more until Jon comes rushing back in with still soaking wet hair and a simple light blue shirt and black gym shorts. The child leaps onto his bed with Damian and looks out the window as if he was gazing out its sights for the very first time. “Whacha’ lookin’ at?”

“The lack of security, that is what I am looking at.” Damian says while lowkey correcting the child’s atrocious grammar. 

“Security?” Jon questions as he foolishly leans half of his body out the window thinking that he would see something different than what he sees every day.

Damian tugs the back of the younger child’s neck to yank him back inside the room. “This home is ill-prepared for even the simplest of attacks.” He chastises jabbing a finger harshly into Jon’s chest. 

The child scrunches his face and pouts, pushing the hand away from him as he curiously stares at the serious child before him. “Bu’ nothing bad ever happens here. Most people leave their doors unlocked because it’s so nice here!”

“What, do you just serve intruders a hot cup of tea while you’re at it?” He mocks crossing his arms with an overly dramatic eye-roll. 

“Or a glass of fresh milk! We should go to Kathy’s house later, her grandpa is a dairy farmer and their milk is the best! They always give me a free bottle.” Jon elaborates gleefully, clearly not bothered by the cruel tone that was used against him.

“...” Damian takes a slender hand and runs it across the bridge of his nose as he takes in several deep breaths while muttering a long string of curses under his breath. When he’s finished with his quiet fit he recomposes himself and calmly says. “I’d rather not.”

“Aw, okay. She’s probably busy anyway.” Jon shrugs his shoulders obviously a bit disappointed but rebounds back to a more chipper tone. He hops off the bed and gets right into Damian’s face as he begins babbling about his plans. “I'm so happy you’re here Dami! Your house is cool and all but Hamilton is my home and like Dad always says, ‘there’s no place like home!’ What do you want to do first? We could go into town together! It’s a bit of a walk but there’s this ice cream parlor that serves the best milkshakes! We could also play with Ms.Ruth’s cats but we’d have to be super sneaky because she’s kind of mean. Or we could go to the school and play on the playground; I have the record for jumping the farthest off of the swings! Ooo! Maybe we can go to the cornfields at the end of town! They have a huge maze that people love getting lost in and during Halloween, they like to go all out decorating it-” 

Damian pushes Jonathan’s face out of his with his palm nearly toppling the boy in blue to the hard wooden floor. “I know that you’re all about the normal childhood friendship thing, but how about we focus on the superhero aspect of our relationship instead?” He inquires not wanting to do anything Jon had suggested. He promised that he would listen to Jonathan, not that he would do whatever he wanted. 

Jon stumbles back a bit but still lands on his feet. He’s not at all deterred by the violent shove and instead happily skips over to a blue plastic desk to grab a chunky plastic laptop that is designed for kids. He confidently saunters to the billionaire’s son with an uncharacteristically smug grin on his face while holding the laptop behind his back and exclaims, “I also thought about that and I already designed my costume!”

If he didn’t have an extraordinary ability to control himself Damian would be openly gaping at the words spoken to him. He didn’t think that Jon had the forethought to plan ahead in his superhero career, especially enough to already be on the uniform stage. “You- already?” 

“Yep!” The child chirps as he wipes out the screen behind him with a dramatic flair that would put a diva to shame. “ I found this cool superman jacket online and it even has a cape! And I already picked out my favorite pair of jeans to go with it!”

Green eyes gaze at the sight before him with an expression completely devoid of emotion. Jon’s confident demeanor gradually turns into nervous sweating as the other hasn’t moved a muscle or said anything for two whole minutes. Damian swipes the laptop out of the boy’s quivery arms and furrows his brow at the tabs he sees opened on the browser. He fiddles with the laptop for a bit, as if searching for something, then glares at the other. “... Jonathan.” 

“Yeah?” Jon squeaks out hearing the utter frustration in Damian’s voice. 

“Are you telling me that your uniform is nothing more than a cheap mass-produced cotton jacket?” He says unmistakably holding back a scream shoving the laptop back into Jon’s shocked eyes and furiously pointing to the online shopping page opened. 

“I also got a new set wheel for my Heelys!” Jon tries his best to defend but the screen is just pressed harder into his face in retaliation. 

“Of course you did.” Damian huffs finally relenting and taking the screen away. “And pray tell, how will that benefit you in combat?”

“Heelys are fun and make me move really fast!”

“No, I can understand the somewhat practical applications of your shoes but I’m talking about the rest of the outfit,” Damian emphasizes gesturing to the cheap jacket shown on the screen. “This can’t protect you from a bug let alone criminals!”

“Um… The jacket has a cape with the Superman logo and I’m also going to wear the strongest pair of jeans I own.” He explains sounding more defeated with every word coming out of his mouth.

“Jonathan-”

“It’s weird when you use my whole name like that.”

“Jonathan Samuel Kent, you are utterly lacking in intelligence and I am thoroughly regretting every word that comes out of your mouth.” Damian rants slapping the screen to emphasize his point.

Jon fidgets in place, fiddling with his hands, and pouting “Hey, I thought you said you’d be nicer.”

“I am, that is why I’m going to help you come up with something better than anything Made-in-China.” Damian proudly declares violently slamming the plastic brick of a laptop shut and scanning the room with purpose. “Do you have a pen and paper?”

Jon takes his tech back and trots to his desk to rummage for the required Items and comes back with a large stack of construction paper and a large box still perfectly sealed in plastic wrap. “I don’t have any pens but I have 120 color pencils I never used because I’m more of a crayon person!”

“This will more than suffice for my needs.” He states sitting on the floor on his knees and bending over the paper on the floor. He swiftly tears open the box of pencils and begins sketching a base for Jon’s uniform design.

Jon stares at the intricate work his friend is accomplishing in such a short period of time with amazement. “Are we drawing our costumes? That sounds really fun! I’m not that good at it tho-”

“I am well versed in the fine arts so that won’t be a problem. All I need you to do is tell me your combat style.” Damian interrupts flicking a neon pink pencil at the younger boy’s forehead. 

“Uhh…” Jon is lost in thought for a significant amount of time causing Damian to groan and click his tongue.

“-Tt- I see we’re going to be working from the ground up.” He puts the pencil down and leans his back against the side of the bed frame. While rubbing his temples in soothing circular motions with his eyes closed he asks, “Let’s start simple. The only power you have is invincibility, correct?”

Seeing the opportunity to talk about his superpower Jon bounces down to the floor uncomfortable close to the other and explains, “Yep! I tried to test if I had laser vision or super strength or any other powers but Batman told me I'm only invincible.”

“And when did he tell you that?”

“After your party? You were there for that.”

“Just making sure Father didn’t hold any more tests in the meantime.” Damian picks up the pencil and paper again and continues sketching out the design away from the bright baby blue eyes intensely staring at him. 

“I jumped out my window to see if I could fly but all that did was make me fall on my neck. Did you know that people can die from that?” Jon tells the boy as he bends his neck with his hands to demonstrate what he was talking about. 

Damian sighs again and ignores the rather disturbing display before him and almost wishes that Superman’s son wasn’t invincible so that his stupidity would kill him. “Obviously.”

He continues to draw in silence while Jon is shaking in anticipation watching how fluidly Damian is drawing. He’s amazed that someone close to his age appears to be such a skilled artist when Jon can barely draw stick figures. Damian, noticing his impatience, side-eyes him before deciding to speak. “And how do you plan to fight villains?”

Confused by the simple question the younger boy hesitantly answers, “By punching them?” 

Damian lets out a small hum from his throat before holding up the hand he’s not using up in a cup shape. Without pausing his actions or looking at Jon he commands him to, “Hit me.”

“What? No, I’m not going to hit you!” Jon exclaims scooching away on his butt at the demand. 

“Just the palm of my hand Jonathan. I promise that without super strength you’re not even going to inconvenience me, let alone hurt me.” He scoffs, not even bothered by Jon’s reaction. “Don’t hold back now. Give me the best punch you can conjure up.” 

“If you say so.” The child struggles with himself to raise his fist before steeling himself and throwing the strongest punch he could directly into Damian’s palm. His fist stayed in the other’s hand for less than a moment before immediately recoiling in disgust. Jon flippantly shakes his hand like the contact hurt him and gasps, “Dude, why are your hands so scaly?”

“It’s just callous that have developed during my years of intense training.” Damian laments while inspecting his own hand with visible disappointment written on his expression. “Also your… everything leaves much left to be desired. You need training.”

“Yeah…” Jon grudgingly admits, recognizing that if he can’t even hurt Damian with his most powerful attack then bad guys are out of the question. 

Damian halts his design and inspects his… “friend” intently. “For now it is best that we start with what you can do. You might be invincible but none of your clothes are. It wouldn’t be wise to continue buying the same outfit continuously when it eventually gets ruined. It would also need to be something you can change quickly into. You do not appear to be coordinated enough to put on several pieces of armor in a timely manner.”

Taking his words into consideration Jon holds his chin in his hand in an overexaggerated pose before springing to life with a clear epiphany. “What, like my onesie pajamas?”

“Your what?” 

“My onesie pajamas!” Jon repeats leaping up and running to his closet. He scours around for a few seconds before revealing an atrocious single garment that is most likely a poor recreation of a brown or tan creature. “This is a giraffe! It is warm and cuddly and easy to put on!”

Dumbfounded Damian opens his mouth to vehemently protest what was being shown to him but was interrupted by Jonathan who crossed his arms and dared look down at him. “Hey, before you say anything mean you gotta admit that all the most popular heroes wore something like this!” 

The older boy reaches into his memory bank for his hero research to discern that the boy was correct, even if a bit misguided. “You’re right. I guess that we’ll just go with the onesie idea.”

“Yay!” Jon cheers sitting back down uncomfortable close to his artist friend. Damian leans away as he works on what seems to be the finishing details. 

“Now you don’t need much protection but just something that’s flexible. Also, something easy to clean-”

“Can I have a cape?”

“... Sure, you can have a cape.”

“I want it to be bright red!”

Damian stops his process once again as he rolls his eyes at the child breathing down his neck. “Are you trying to be a walking target?”

With a strong frown, Jon looks at Damian like he’s the dumb one and retorts, “Yes? I’m the one taking all the hits so they need to pay attention to me.”

“Jonathan, I am thoroughly impressed.” He admits as he resumes his work because he didn’t expect Jon to think that far ahead. It’s actually the same reasoning he deduced for his father creating the Robin attire the way it is. 

“Hey, I might not know the same stuff as you but that doesn’t mean I’m a big dummy head.”

“We are definitely working on your vocabulary in the near future.” He says all of his lingering praise jumping out the window after listening to Jon’s very limited lexicon. “Okay, I got a base down. What do you think?” He says, finally revealing the uniform prototype to the boy.

Jon could only stare at the sight before him at a loss for words. “Um… It looks dark.”

And indeed it was very dark. The suit drawn was a significantly morbid looking attire with a very out of place blood-red cape. The uniform was black with many harsh edges littering the limbs. The only other bright shade aside from the cape is the white of the eyes in the domino mask. It’s not the embodiment of hope and peace he was expecting. Heck, he doesn’t even see the House of El symbol anywhere on it! Jon snatches the paper out of Damian’s hands to see if he was just not seeing it correctly, but no matter how many different he looks it’s still terrifying. 

“People would be scared of me if I wore something this mean looking. I’m supposed to be Superboy, not Batman. And why is there a mask?” Jon asks, slapping the paper with the back of his hands.

“To hide your identity of course.” Damian scoffs, taking his unappreciated masterpiece back. 

“But people need to see my face.” Jon all but demands pointing at the offending artwork.

“Why?”

Jon takes in a very deep breath before educating Damian on the importance of this subject. “My dad said something when he first came out as Superman. He explained that he doesn’t wear a mask because he doesn’t want people to see him as something other than human. That even though he has all those amazing powers he’s a person. I don’t want to hide behind a mask when I save others.”

Damian nods his head in understanding. “So it’s a moral reason. Not my thing but for you it would work in your favor to throw people off. Underestimation is a powerful weapon.” He then grabs a blank sheet of paper to begin reworking the uniform to a more acceptable standard. “Though if you want to commit to the whole no-mask representation you’ll have to start wearing a mask in your civilian identity.” 

“I’ll see what I can do about that but Dad says that he won’t get me a pair of glasses like him.” Jon laments slouching where he sits before completely falling back onto the floor with a loud thump.

While Damian doesn’t halt his process he does falter at the words slightly. “Why ever not? The lenses your father wears are made with a special material that distorts the minds of other-”

“Dami, he doesn’t want me getting into the whole hero business.” He emphatically groans shooting upright while throwing his arms out.

“That’s foolish. You’re the son of Superman, so of course, you’re going to follow in your father’s footsteps.”

“I know right!?” Jon nearly screams as he tosses his head back and kicks the soles of his bare feet together expeditiously. “He doesn’t want anything to change and I should just act like Superman isn’t my dad but I can’t do that!”

“Exactly.”

“It’s like Batman not making you Robin one day!”

This statement seems to set Damian off as he begins fuming about his own circumstance where he was only mildly invested in Jon’s words before. “Jonathan, I completely sympathize with you. Father refuses to make Drake give up the mantle of Robin and commands that I only live as a civilian.”

“Really? But you have so much training.”

“That’s what I have been saying to him but he’s under the impression that I’m not fit to be his Robin, meaning that I’m not fit to be his son!” He hisses under his breath tightening his grip on the paper in his hands.

“That’s crazy!” Jon exclaims.

“I KNOW!” The paper in Damian’s grasp tears due to the intensity he used. Seeing his art ruined Damian decides to cut his losses and viciously shreds the paper repeatedly with his bare hands until it’s nothing more than tiny scraps. He huffs through his nose as he calms himself down before wiping the carnage he created off his lap and onto the floor. Damian subtly clears his throat before delicately picking up a new piece of paper to continue designing Jon’s uniform. “I apologize for my loss of composure. Now then, seeing as you didn’t like this design we can go for something more…”

“Colorful?” Jon carefully responds as to not incite another fit from the older boy.

“Sure, let’s go with that,” He says as he grabs the more famous shades of Superman’s iconic costume. “And you want to stick with the same red, yellow, and blue as your father?”

“Mmmm… I don’t wanna copy him too much.” Jon contemplates picking up the color pencil box from the floor and inspecting the rainbow inside. He picks out the same colors Damian did but on the lighter side and hands them over to Damian. “Maybe I should go with something brighter!”

“That’s fine.” 

“Wait! I want red boots like my dad!” He says tossing a bright scarlet over to him. 

“Okay?”

“And I don’t want the red underwear thing.”

“Hm.”

“Oh! And I want it to be comfy!”

“Of course.” With the last few details finished, Damian reveals the new design to Jon who is more pleased but unsatisfied with the result. “How about this?”

Blue eyes narrow at the paper in front of him as he pouts. He likes it enough but it just doesn’t sit right with him. It has everything he asked for so he should be grateful but when he imagines wearing it his frown becomes more prominent. “Hmm… It looks fine but… It looks too grown up.”

“Jon, they won’t take us seriously if we look like children.”

“Okay then Mr. Judgmental what does your awesome superhero costume look like then?” Jon huffs but is interrupted by another piece of paper being shoved into his face. It’s a very detailed and well-done design of a variant Robin costume. “Do… Do you just carry that around with you?”

“That would be ridiculous. I just so happen to have been working on it during the flight here.” He straightens the creases on the design and gestures to each detail of the costume while he elaborates his reasoning to his audience. “I have a hood, proper protection, plenty of holdings to carry an array of gadgets, a flattering yet threatening silhouette, and muted down colors so I won’t be a walking target while still staying dedicated to the aesthetic.”

“The what?”

“It means a particular style.”

“Oh.” He stares at the picture longer confused. It’s actually a very nice design and he can totally see Damian rockin’ the outfit but it does leave Jon with one very obvious and glaring question. “So how are we going to make this?”

Damian folds the paper neatly back into his pocket as he explains, “Since my father refuses to help fund my efforts by handing me his kevlar or whatever else he uses to create his uniform we will have to work with what we can. This isn’t a problem as my training has taught me to use everything at my disposal no matter how inefficient.”

“Since we’re making costumes-”

“Uniforms.”

“We can go to the fabric store downtown. It has a lot of stuff from the city because the lady who owns it is really into costumes and travels all over for different stuff. I go there with my mom before Halloween every year!” Jon cheers as happy memories flood into his mind. Mostly it was just him getting to eat ice cream while his mom did everything but they were happy memories nonetheless. 

“A basic textile store in the middle of nowhere?” Damian sighs as just the thought of it makes him want to visibly cringe. 

“Hey, that store is enormous and you just said that you can work with anything and this counts as anything. What, you don’t think can handle it?” Jon teases poking Damian repeatedly in the shoulder. Were he a lesser human, or even a human at all, Damian would rip that finger out of its socket, eat it, then spit it back into Jonathan’s face. Thankfully he’s an invincible half-Kryptonian boy meaning Damian knows such efforts would be wasted. 

Instead of raining homicidal vengeance upon the seven-year-old Damian chooses to peacefully let the comment go. “I know you’re goading me, Jonathan.”

“I’m not goat-ing you, I’m challenging you.”

Suppressing the powerful urge to smack his own forehead Damian drops what he’s doing and gracefully stands up, checking his person to ensure that he has all of his belongings on him. “Fine, we’ll go to the damned store.”

“Yay! Lemme go get my piggy bank!” Jon cheers as he slides under his bed and pops back up in one fluid motion with a substantially sized Superman-themed piggy bank in his hands. Jon struggles to hold the porcelain pig upright in his fingers as he lifts it to show it off to his new friend. 

Damian blankly stares at it before easily picking it up with a single hand and gently placing it on the mattress next to them. “That won’t be necessary, Father has given me an allowance that can more than pay for anything we need.”

“I get an allowance too and get paid for extra chores around the house. Plus you’re a guest here and Dad says that it’s rude to make you pay.” Jon declares stubbornly with his hands on his hips.

“I have more money. It’s not much but Father has given me $2000 this week for anything I would need.” Damian emphasizes this point by pulling out a rather simple black leather wallet with a single black debit card and several hundred dollar bills.

Jon stares bewildered at the amount of money being shown to him as if it was nothing and shyly looks back to his larger but comparatively less worthy bank. “... I mean… I got $45 and… whatever is in the pig. I dunno but it should be enough!”

“-Tt- See. Now let me handle the bill Jonathan.” Damian says confidently seeing how deflated Jonathan is. He saunters out of the room towards the stairs with the little boy right on his heels.

“Fine, but I’ll pay you back later.” Jon concedes as they walk down.

“The sentiment is appreciated.” 

Jonathan rushes to the kitchen where all three men are still chatting about who knows what. Jon lightly pats his father on his forearm and gazes up at the man in anticipation. Clark Kent immediately freezes and stops his conversation to attend to his son. 

“Dad, Dami and I are heading downtown! We’ll be back before Mom gets home!” Jon gleefully announces before quickly turning on his heel towards the door where Damian was waiting, glaring daggers at the Man of Steel.

Hastily, the man grabs his son’s left arm and pulls him back with a bit more force than necessary does his best to mask his nervousness while asking, “Woah there Sport, by yourselves?” 

Damian, seeing the man’s obvious, and well-founded, mistrust marches up to him and tightly seizes Jon’s free arm. “We can more than handle an outing in this small village that is apparently so safe you leave your doors unlocked.”

“Hamilton is safe but I still don’t want y'all to go out alone. What are you two even planning on doing? The ice cream parlor?” The farmer presses stalling for time. 

“Maybe after but we’re going to Miss Margret’s shop!” Jon answers excitedly.

“The fabric store?”

“I’m bankrolling Jonathan and I’s future endeavors into vigilantism since you are all so opposed to it.” The billionaire’s son scoffs and yanks the child away from his father. “This way your hands are free from any action we take.”

Bruce decides that it would be a good time to step in and stands up to hold Damian back from bolting out of the house with Superman’s son. “Damian when I gave you that money this isn’t what it was for.”

“Okay, then I’ll pay!” Jon shouts not understanding the real problem.

“Jon-” Clark starts but is interrupted by a fuming Damian. 

“Jonathan that’s ridiculous, I already said I’ll pay and I’m a man of my word.”

Bruce tries to calm his son down but is stopped by Jon. “Damian-”

“But your dad said you can’t so that means I’ll pay.”

“I’ll pay!”

“No me!”

“I will pay!”

“I’ll pay!”

“I’ll pay!”

“BOYS!” Superman shouts looking down at the arguing boys who were clearly ready to get physical with their argument. His harsh gaze softens as he looks at the children and smiles. “No fighting, especially over this. I’ll pay.”

“Clark-”

“They’re just making costumes Bruce. They’ll find a way to do it without us anyway so I might as well make sure they don’t do anything too reckless.”

“Clark-”

“Plus I’m not going to let them go on patrols or train them so there shouldn’t be any harm in letting them dress up. Besides, all kids dress up as heroes, I remember doing the same thing-”

The billionaire, finally fed up by being interrupted, interrupts his friend and states, “Clark I understand where you’re coming from, but I’m sure as hell not going to let you pay for my son. I’ll pay.”

The Kryptonian’s smile gets wider at the words but holds his hands out in a calming manner. “Bruce you’re a guest in my town. It would be incredibly rude if you paid for anything while visiting.”

“I’m sorry but who in this room is the billionaire?” Bruce scoff slowly morphing into his Batman tone.

“I know you’re incredibly rich, but that doesn’t mean I won’t pay. Plus it’s my son’s first costume-”

“Uniform.” The shorter man corrects but is ignored. 

“So of course I want to be part of it.”

“I’m still paying.”

Seeing where this conversation is going Alfred, bless his soul, steps in between the two men who are practically at each other’s throats and have gradually moved close. He lightly uses his hands to pry the two apart and in his famously dry tone asks, “Master Bruce, Mister Kent. While it is incredibly enjoyable to see you both emulate your children’s arguing why not just pay for your own child’s purchase?”

Bruce, seeing the look his surrogate father was giving him, backed off physically but still stubbornly put his foot down about the topic at hand. “I appreciate the help Alfred but I’m more than willing to pay for both of them.”

“I know you’re willing but I’m not going to let you.” The other man says being just as stubborn.

“You’re not going to let me? I don't remember needing your permission to let me do anything.”

“Not unless it’s about anything for my son and I’ll also pay for Damian too because they're friends.”

“Clark, you’re a journalist still paying off his mortgage, I can pay.”

“This isn’t going to break my wallet Bruce-”

“I’m about to break something if you don’t let me pay-”

“Uh, Dad?” Jon awkwardly interrupts their fathers’ spat by tugging on his father’s sleeve. “Can Dami and I go?”

Clark kneels down and picks his son up and out of the hold of the angry boy still glaring at him telling them, “Sure, I’ll drive you both there in the truck.”

“Really!? Can we sit in the bed of the truck?” Jon pleads

“Sorry Jon, you still gotta stay in the booster seat till you’re eight.” Superman explains causing Jon to groan with frustration as he’s carried out of the house.

“Wait, I’m coming with.” Bruce declares snatching his wallet and phone from the table and following the man outside, dragging his confused son by the shoulder.

“I expect nothing less from you Bruce but this doesn’t mean I’m letting you pay.”

“Funny because I was going to say the same thing.”

Alfred, who was left alone in the Kent family home, looks longingly out the door. He releases a breath he didn’t know he was even holding and chuckles at the very quick turn of events that transpired before him. He sighs nostalgically as he sits back down at the table to enjoy the silence. “It warms my heart to see that no matter the generation you two will still fight like children.” He says aloud to no one in particular as he takes a sip of the cheap coffee that was served to him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Holy crap I got done early! This is a miracle! Thank you for reading and I hope to do better in the future so that y'all can enjoy reading my story more. I actually have the entire story planned out but I do struggle with the little details and plot points so I hope I'm doing well. If I'm not I'm at least writing something fun to read. Thanks again and leave a comment if you like! I don't respond to comments only out of fear of sounding too overbearing but I do love reading them!


	6. Flawed Designs (Part 2)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jon and Damian continue their costume endeavors in Hamilton county.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can't keep a consistent schedule for crap for better or worse so here's an extremely early chapter. Edit: Forgot to add pic but now it's here.

Margret’s Textile Emporium is located around the heart of downtown Hamilton and is quite the hotspot for the many avid quilters or the occasional couture. While the shop is manly busy around fall and winter there is still the best place this side of Kansas to get any kind of fabric for any project. Margaret herself is a fabric enthusiast ever since she discovered the sheer variety of fabrics this world has to offer but that’s a story for another time. The point is that the decently sized store, while large, is very quiet most days during the summer season.

The young woman was tidying up some of the floral cotton patterns near the front register when the chiming of the doorbell caught her attention. Before the young store owner could even greet the customers on this fine August day she is bombarded by two men who start making demands at her. They are talking so quickly that the poor girl doesn’t know what to do. After some time the men slow down enough for her to comprehend the words coming out of their mouths.

“I’m paying.” The more finely dressed man commands all but shoving a series of very shindy credit cards at her.

“Um… Okay, but what are you paying fo-'' She tries to ask but is stopped by someone she does recognize. The usually meek and polite Clark Kent she has come to know over the years isn’t so meek as he pushes his wallet at her.

“Bruce, no. Sorry about that Margret. I’m paying for whatever the kids want. They’re trying to make some superhero costumes.” The simple farmer explains as he points to the kids she failed to notice next to them previously.

The kids look up at her in that empty way children are known to do and she nearly melts at the sight. “Awwww, that’s adorable~”

“It is, isn’t it. That’s why I’m paying.” The stranger she doesn’t know says leaving no room for question.

“No Bruce, I just said I’ll pay.”

“Clark.”

“Bruce.”

Margret sighs, now recognizing what’s happening in front of her. She’s used to seeing it during Halloween season and it’s almost refreshing to have one so early in the year. This is a classic case of a fatherly dick measuring contest. The young lady relaxes and takes the items that were forcibly given to her on the counter and looks at the two men locked in a heated argument. She turns to the children, who are intently watching their dads fight, and decides to bestow some mercy on them.

“You two kids can just walk around the store by yourselves. This fight looks like it isn’t going to end anytime soon.” She explains and nudges the children away into the vast maze of colorful fabrics and materials. 

“Okay!” Jon exclaims skipping into the soft abyss.

The slightly older boy glares at the woman before quickly following his friend with only a click of his tongue. “Tt.”

What a rude little boy.

Jon happily runs through the aisles of fabrics that touch the ceiling and occasionally slamming his body into the particularly fluffy areas. Behind the hyper child, Damian calmly follows while ignoring the younger boy’s odd antics in favor of inspecting the materials around them. He methodically pinches each fabric that appears to meet his criteria between his fingers before scowling and moving onto the next one. The store is mostly quiet save for the distinct arguments of their fathers in the backgrounds that become lower as they move deeper into the textiles. 

This pattern continues between the two for about three isles when Damian leaves Jon alone, who’s stuck in the fleece with a cute dinosaur pattern, to go get a cart. When he comes back Damian immediately takes a knife that was stuck in his dress shoe, disturbing Jon immensely, and attempts to slash black knit fabric to no avail. Satisfied with the result Damian throws the entire bolt into the cart and continues what he was doing before. Jon walks up to the cart curiously feeling the fabric. It’s not the softest but it does remind Jon of his mother’s cooking gloves. 

The child looks at the cardboard and sees that it’s over $20/yard. Jon doesn’t really know what the latter half of the price means but he knows that $20 is a lot of money. “Dami, this is really expensive. What is it?”

“Polyethylene. I’m surprised that they have this specific kind here let alone one in such a tight-knit.”

Jon just stares at the boy, waiting for him to catch on to the fact that he has no idea what the words coming out of his mouth mean. Damian rolls his eyes, a habit he’s become all too familiar with within the short time he’s known Jon, and elaborates, “It’s plastic. In its denser form it could even be used in a bulletproof vest bit obviously this won’t be the case here. It’s used for fabrics and if designed in the right way can be very durable. That doesn’t mean that it won’t have some uses.”

“My mom has cooking gloves made of this stuff!”

“As she should as it is incredibly cut resistant.” He comments continuing to feel other fabrics. “Have you found materials that best suit your needs?”

Jon continues to stare blankly at the boy before rapidly blinking with clarity. “Ooooh, I forgot we were doing that.”

“Jonathan-”

“I got distracted! Everything is so soft and fluffy!”

“Are all children your age like this?” Damian bemoans pinching the bridge of his nose. 

“I dunno. Are all ten-year-olds like you?” Jon shoots back sticking his tongue out at him. 

The older child sighs and shakes his head, spewing out a string of curses in his native dialect before calming himself down once again. “Just get the fabric you need.”

“Okay!” Jon trots quickly around the corner and quickly comes back with a large amount of bright red fleece. “This is made of the same polly-et-lean stuff; It says so on the cardboard! Plus it’s a billion times better because it’s soft and it’s only, like, $7.”

Another, significantly louder, sigh is heard coming out from Damian’s lips as he takes in the sight of Jon and the fluffy fabric. “Jon, the word is polyethylene and they are not the same. Knit, thread count, and quality are all different.”

“Well too bad! This stuff is squishier than my blanket at home and I want it to be my cape!” He says definitely as he slams it into the cart. He sadly doesn’t capture the threatening effect he was clearly going for as he wasn’t tall enough to fluidly get the bolt inside.

Damian decides that this isn’t a battle he wants to get into and just continues pushing the cart through the isles. The two take turns shopping for fabrics together and throwing a different array of materials inside; Damian thinking practically while Jon decides on color and comfort. While Damian was debating the pros and cons of Nylon vs Polyester with himself he sees that Jonathan has decided to start inquiring about what he was actually putting into the cart. Damian, glad that the boy is asking sensible questions, readily answers him to the best of his ability, and a bit beyond it. 

As Damian goes on about the fabrics he can see Jon gradually become dimmer with each answer. He decides to get to the bottom of the boy’s sudden distaste for the subject he brought up. The answer he gets isn’t all too surprising but not what he expected.

“Why is everything made of plastic? Isn’t that a bad thing?”

“I don’t see the problem.”

“I dunno but on Earth Day, my teacher told us that too much plastic is really bad for the environment,” Jon says as he looks at the cart they piled up. “Are there things that aren’t plastic?”

“A bit late to be eco-conscious, don’t you think?” Damian teases as he settles on nylon and puts it in the cart. “Besides, it’s not like we have the means to be picky. We must work with what we have.”

“I guess you’re right…” Jon laments before getting lost in thought. He then jumps to life grabbing the bright red fleece he got for his cape and another bolt of fabric he threw in earlier out of the cart and running back where he got them. Green eyes scan the boy’s actions as said boy runs around to several isles before settling near the section he was satisfied with and taking a significantly more fluffy fleece and a light blue fabric back to the cart. “We have cotton! Cotton is made up of plants and plants are good for the environment!”

Damian’s slightly amused by Jon’s antics and just allows whatever he was doing to happen. He has long given up trying to convince the other to grab something practical. “You can have all of the cotton you want but I’m not changing my purchases since I doubt it will stop a knife in its path. Also, if you want to stick with cotton then it would have been best if you really did by that atrocious jacket you found online.”

“Hmm… But we’re already here and this looks comfier than the jacket. Much comfier than my jeans at least.” Jon explains making as much sense as he can, which isn’t much. 

“Whatever you want I guess.” Damian shrugs and continues his search. “But I do recommend at least lining or reinforcing it with something stronger.” He looks at the light blue fabric to find that it’s something more commonly used for babies and nurseries. Very apt to describe the person who will be wearing it. 

Even after all of that talk Jon still ends up getting something with plastic in it mostly at the behest of Damian, and the fact that a really shiny gold he became quickly obsessed with has nylon in it. Jon still says that it’s best to at least have some eco-friendly alternative than none. Then Damian begins to look at the colored leather, mostly the dark reds and greens, causing Jon to look at him funny.

“Are you about to complain about leather? It’s not a plastic in the slightest.” Damian groans thinking Jon’s about to complain again.

Jon shifts his gaze between the leather and Damian as if the sight of the two next to each other cannot fully be processed in his mind. Jon opens and closes his mouth a couple of times, clearly trying to say something but can’t. Then Jon enters that little episode he tends to go into where it appears that he sleeps while wide awake. Damian ignores him while keeping a tab in his mind to find out what exactly Jonathan is diagnosed with lest it gets in the way of their plans. 

Damian is in the process of putting the dark red leather in their shared shopping cart when Jon finally comes to his senses. “I see that you’re finally back into the land of the living.” He mocks while the child shakes his head rapidly. 

“Don’t you hate leather?” Jon asks seemingly out of nowhere.

Confused Damian answers, “Not in the slightest. Why would you think that?”

“But… Aren’t you a vegetarian?”

This question stumps Damian as he has never been a vegetarian nor has he discussed his eating habits with Jonathan. While he does follow a rather strict halaal diet he’s never brought up to anyone besides Pennyworth due to the butler being in charge of his meals. “I’m not a vegetarian.”

“Oh yeah, you’ve been a vegan for a year now. Doesn’t that make leather worse; it’s made from cows?”

“Jonathan, we’ve only known one another for two weeks. You have seen me eat meat. Where are you getting this false information?” Damian inquires immensely curious as to where he was pulling these assumptions from.

Jon quirks his bushy brow at the older boy in absolute confusion and cocks his head to the side inspecting Damian’s entire being. He scratches his head nervously as he tries to remember where he got that information only to realize that he can’t. “Oh. I guess I made that up in my head. You just… look like a vegetarian?”

“I look like a vegetarian?” Damian repeats utterly baffled by the words. 

Jon, realizing how weird he sounds, shrinks into himself as he hesitantly replies. “Yes?”

They two stare blankly at each other for what feels like forever until Jon breaks the intense eyes contact, red in the face with embarrassment. Damian has heard many things about his appearance since he came to the States, but ‘vegetarian’ is a new one. The two continue to shop in awkward silence, Damian now glancing at buttons and zippers while Jon desperately tries avoiding the older child. 

Jon gets over his embarrassment swiftly and picks out a fairly large metal sipper with a shiny blue glass gem adorned on it. It is rather obnoxious in its size and an easy target but Damian doesn’t stop Jon from taking it as it’s clear to him that the boy is not the brightest. The son of Batman picks out his own zipper and they agree that this is all that they can do for now. Damian isn’t completely satisfied but he plans on modifying it with extra protection when he gets home.

When the two head up to the counter the woman at the counter is dutifully ignoring the fight that is still going on in favor of a quilting magazine. When she sees the haul the children brought to her, her eyes nearly bulge out from her skull. She tries to get the grown men’s attention with little luck before moving to the kids. “Uh… How much do you need?”

“What do you mean?” Jon inquires as he pushes the cart forward. “This is what we’re buying, right Dami?”

“Correct.”

She nervously looks at the fabric in the cart and back at the boys, obviously gauging them for their reaction to the next words she’s about to say. “And that’s great but I sell fabric by the yard.”

The boys simply continue to stare at her in silence.

“That means that the price here,” Margret grabs one of Jon’s cotton bulks and points to the price on the cardboard, “is only telling you the price for one single yard.”

“How big is a yard?” Jon asks.

The young woman grabs a long wooden stick from behind the register to show them the size. The boys look at their collection and back to the stick curiously before the taller of the two children snatches the ruler from her hands and holds it up to Jonathan’s body. He takes two pieces of paper out of his pockets, protecting them from the eyes of the store owner, and doing some calculations in his head. 

Jon meanwhile takes the stick from his friend and holds it up to Miss. Margret before handing it back to her. She once again tries getting the attention of the children’s fathers to no avail and she even begins to see them start becoming a bit violent with each other. The men decide to take their argument outside leaving the three of them alone in the store, but still visible from the windows. She sighs and decides to push the cart to the cutting counter around the front of the store. Marget usually wouldn’t begin the cutting process without the permission of the customer paying for it present but she’s feeling a bit petty and these kids are cute. 

Damian and Jon are now both looking over the designs, making last-minute changes with a colored pencil, and writing down measurements. It’s apparent that the older boy is the one doing most of the math involved while Jon merely looks at the fabric cart and adds stuff to his costume. When they’re done Damian tears off a piece of paper from one of their designs and writes down all the measurements for Margret to ensure that she won’t see their drawings. 

The first thing the owner notices when she takes the paper is that “Dami'' has surprisingly beautiful and legible handwriting for a child. The next thing she notices is that the measurements are surprisingly specific, right down to the 5th decimal place. She generously decides to round up the measurements and begins cutting the cloths while keeping an eye on the children. It isn’t a hard task as they appear to just stand in front of her patiently waiting for their items. When she was done she looks out the window for the boys’ parents only to find that they were coming back inside. 

The atmosphere was tense as the men, who were no longer screaming at each other but instead continuing their argument with intense glares. That’s when Miss. Margret believed it would be a good time for her to finally get some words in. 

“Is this everything you need today?”

The men looked at the stack of neatly folded fabrics in shock since they didn’t even notice their children going off and taking what they wanted. Clark looks like he’s about to speak up, but he doesn’t get a word in when his baby boy runs up to the counter with an array of colorful threads of all kinds.

“Are any of these good?” He asks in an adorable pleading voice as he stands on his toes to put his chin on the tabletop.

The woman inspects the pile the boy placed on the table and sorts out the type that would machine the strength and color of the fabric they collected. She puts the rejects behind the counter and takes out her calculator much to the chagrin of the older men in the room. 

After multiple clicks of the calculator in her hands, the store owner announces her conclusion. “Okay, your subtotal is $393.63 plus tax equals… Ah! Your total is $419.22.”

Silence. Utter and complete silence fills the store as the men look at each other dumbfounded at the price. Jon is equally shocked as he’s never seen a price tag so expensive in his entire life. Damian sighs and takes out his wallet handing the patient employee five $100 bills. She is clearly reluctant to take such an exorbitant amount of money from a child but before she could decline the man she doesn’t recognize, his father, takes out his own wallet and hands the exact same amount of bills and hands it to the boy. The child doesn’t even turn around to look at the man as he takes the cash and stuffs it into his wallet. 

Just how rich are these outsiders?

She takes the money, to the quiet protest of Clark and Jon Kent, and the items to the register to be bagged while also getting the child his change. The second she puts the bags down Jon swoops in with a polite thank you and practically runs out the door with the heavy purchase, his companion slowly walking behind him not even bothering to get his change back.

Jon and Damian toss their haul in the back of the truck excitedly but when the older of the two also prepares to sit down for departure he’s violently yanked back outside by Jon, who is wearing a suspiciously wide grin. “Dami, we can’t leave yet!”

“Why not?” He asks, slapping the boy’s hands off of his person. 

“Well… We’re downtown and we came here since costumes were your idea-”

“Technically it was yours.”

“Whatever, you paid. So now it’s my turn to pay for something for you!” Jon hops and drags Damian by the sleeve of his black shirt in the opposite direction of the store they just left gathering confused looks from their fathers, who just exited the store.

Across the street and a few doors down from the textile store was an old western-styled ice cream parlor that Jon seemed overly familiar with. The boy nearly breaks down the door as he bursts through with his new friend and is immediately greeted by several of the patrons present. 

“Hi Jon!”

“Hey Jono, who’s that with ya?”

“Jonathan, where are your parents?”

The boy took his sweet time to greet everybody as he continued to drag alone a very apathetic Damian who scowls at everyone even remotely glancing at him. When they get to the display case they can hear their fathers have also entered the store and are currently standing behind them. The two don’t bother looking at the men as they are distracted by the vast array of flavors before them. 

“They have everything here! They have: cookie dough, birthday cake, sweet cream, mint chocolate chip, strawberry, chocolate, vanilla bean, coffee, rum, cotton candy, banana, pecan, caramel, french toast, mango, peanut butter, rocky road, cinnamon, cherry, apple pie, lemon, pistachio-”

“Jonathan, I can clearly read.”

“Oh yeah…” Jon hums as he presses his face against the cool glass. “I want apple pie and cookie dough with lots and lots of rainbow sprinkles and caramel and chocolate sauce! I usually get peanut butter and banana but I’m in more of a sweet mood today. What do you want?”

“I… Do I have to get one-”

“Yes.” Jon demands not even letting Damian finish that sentence. “I know they have a butt-ton of flavors but you’re allowed to sample them!”

“Jonathan.”

“Yeah?”

“I want you to know that I am putting an obscene amount of trust in you that none of this will kill me.” Damian says with a seriousness that is usually reserved for people about to take a literal leap of faith or on a suicide mission. 

“I-what?” The child sputters out confused and ogles the other with a puzzled expression. 

Damian doesn’t dare reply to the baffled noise the boy next to him makes and tells the man behind the counter, “I want pistachio and dark chocolate.” 

“Okay son, do you want it in a kid’s cone?” The nice man asks grabbing an ice cream scoop while using his other hand to show off a chocolate-dipped waffle cone.

Damian stares at the cone intensely before warily answering, “...Yes.” 

Jon continues to stare at Damian as the boy watches the construction of his treat being assembled with such intensity. He’s never seen someone be so interested yet extremely threatened by the very concept of ice cream before which causes Jonathan to question if Damian has ever eaten ice cream before.

WAIT HOLD UP.

“YOU’VE NEVER HAD ICE CREAM BEFORE!?!” Jon cries as he grabs Damian by the shoulders and starts furiously shaking him like there was no tomorrow. The older child almost chucks the boy into a wall if his father didn’t anticipate this and steady his hands and pry Jon away from him.

Damian’s father looks around them to see that everybody in the shop is staring at them and he internally begs for the man to be finished with his son’s ice cream so that he can leave faster. Another employee does Jonathan’s order and before Clark can take out his wallet Jon slams a wrinkly $10 bill from his short pocket onto the wooden counter. He glares at his father, daring him to try and pay for the ice cream that Jon said he was going to pay for. Clark meanwhile is strongly questioning what kind of habits he was learning from his new friend. Bruce and Clark decided to get a single scoop for themselves, coffee and vanilla bean respectively, and pay for their own treat without fighting thankfully. 

The group of four decide to take their treats to the outside seating after deciding that Jon cannot be trusted to not scream again if he heard anything else about Damian’s apparent lack of sweets. As the group sits down at the metal table Jon plops himself uncomfortably close to Damian watching him with wide eyes to catch his reaction to his first taste of ice cream. The older boy leans far away from Jon to get some space to himself, unknowingly entering his father’s personal space, and eats his frozen treat. 

Damian lets the taste sit on his tongue for a bit before simply shrugging and continues his eating. Jon groans, sorely disappointed by the reactions and wallow in his own sweet dessert. “I can’t believe you! First time eating ice cream and all you do is shrug!”

“I don’t know why you’re so disappointed. Can’t you tell I’m brimming with delight?” Damian asks as he decides that licking it is inefficient and takes a plastic spoon to it instead. 

“You are?” 

Bruce smiles at the perplexed boy and answers for his son. “Of course he is. He absolutely loves it.”

“Ah, it’s genetic then.” Clark laughs as he watches the Wayne pair eat their coned dessert with spoons.

“What’s genetic?” The billionaire asks scowling at his friend.

“Just the… everything.”

“Are you trying to pick a fight Smallville?”

“Hey, I didn’t mean it like a bad thing.” He says but backs off in favor of eating his quickly melting ice cream. “How are you doing over there Jon?”

Sadly Jon couldn’t reply as he erroneously concluded that the best way to save his ice cream from the August heat was to attempt to eat it all in one bite. Jon might be indestructible to physical hits but apparently he could still get brain freezes. The boy concludes that he has the worst kind of invincibility ever.

Clark fondly shakes his head at the sight of his boy shaking in his seat and holding his face in pain from his ice cream. The fathers partake in a peaceful conversation about fatherhood and coffee while their son silently finishes their ice cream. Jon attempts to start some chatting once or twice but it’s clear that Damian is the kind of person that doesn’t like to talk while he eats. Jon concludes that he should wait for the older boy to finish his dessert before he speaks up again.

It doesn’t take long as Damian quickly eats the last of his frozen snack before Jon could finish his own. The boy rushes to empty his cup making sure he’s extra careful not to get another brain freeze. When he’s done he cleans his chocolate and sprinkles stained face with some napkins and begins chatting up a storm to Damian, who is barely paying attention. They all head back to the car, Jon insisting that he gets to hold all the stuff they bought, and get strapped in. Clark makes sure to strap Jon in his booster seat extra tight because the child is now hopped up on so much sugar he might develop super speed and vibrate out. 

On the ride home, Jon continues his loud one-sided conversation with Damian and the other boy is forever grateful that Hamilton county is so tiny; it means less time stuck in a moving vehicle with the endless talking machine. As they pull up to the front of the Kent’s farm the see that another car is already in the driveway and that Supergirl, Lois, and Alfred are all chatting and having tea on the porch of the house. Everyone pours out of the red truck with Damian taking one of the heavier bags from Jon because the boy almost spilled it out onto the dirt driveway. 

Lois waves to everyone and takes note of the purchase being hauled into the house. “What do you two have there?”

“Fabric for our superhero costumes!” Jon proudly and loudly announces to his mom, hugging her legs. 

“Uniforms.” Damian corrects.

Lois looks at her husband clearly waiting for him to elaborate on what in the world their baby was talking about. “Clark, we said that-”

“Lois, it’s just for fun, I swear I’m not putting our child out on the field. Just… Just think of it as an early Halloween.” The man explains visibly shrinking from the glower his wife was giving him.

Her eyes sharpen before shifting to a more loving expression as she inquires, “And just how are you going to make it?”

“We’re going to sew it of course!” Jon exclaims holding up the bag in his hand.

“And when did my little man become a little tailor?”

Jon stares at his mother gobsmacked as he honestly didn’t think that far ahead. He looks to Damian who, while not as expressive as Jonathan, is clearly more rigid than it was previously at the sound of the question. The young boy looks back to his mother meekly and quietly asks, “Uh… Can you help us?”

Lois strokes her son’s head as she laughs at the situation and nods to him before turning to her guest on the porch. “Sorry guys, duty calls.”

Alfred smiles and stands up from the bench he was sitting on while dusting off his khakis. “Don’t be sorry Mrs. Kent, if anything I believe that I can also be of some assistance. I did have a hand in making all of Master Wayne’s original uniforms after all.”

Kara also stands up, Krypto following her lead from his place on the floor, and chimes in. “I can also help! I might not be that good but I do fix my own suit from time to time.”

Everyone moves to the living room as Lois takes out a simple heavy-duty sewing machine and a sewing kit to lay on the coffee table. Clark and Bruce move around the furniture so that everyone has more room to work on the floor while Damian starts going into great detail about how he wants his uniform to be to Alfred. It’s probably the most ever heard the other boy speak so while his tone was a bit harsh no one stopped him. Jon and his cousin Kara worked on taking out the fabrics and reading the directions on how to wash them so they could get started on making something with it.

With lots of paper and tape, every single piece Jon owned, the elderly man helped the kids create patterns. Actually it was more like Alfred drew out the patterns while Kara cut them out; the kids cannot be trusted with sharp instruments. That fact became even more clear when Damian’s father found the secret compartment Damian created in his shoe for knives. Jon learned that day that the sole of dress shoes can hold three tiny blades. 

The house became rather lively into the evening and well into the night as everyone happily worked on the costumes. There were occasional breaks to eat some sandwiches and pies or to separate Damian and Jon who got into fights they quickly got over, but everyone seemed to have a good time. The two boys kept pestering Superman and Supergirl to use their powers with not much luck but Kara did cheat cleaning the ends of Damian’s cape with her heat vision while no one except the children was looking. It wasn’t so secretive the second time she did it as cotton is apparently extremely flammable.

While Bruce isn’t too much help as he didn’t have any sewing skills, couldn’t do any housework if his life depended on it, he did have a vast amount of wealth and an excess of domino masks. He was in charge of getting extra items they didn’t think of needing originally such as rubber gloves for Jon or knee pads for Damian. With all the work everyone was doing no one noticed that it was well past midnight until the older Wayne’s phone, specifically the one he uses for Batman-related issues, begins ringing. 

In the current chaos happening around him, Jon and Damian chasing Krypto around the kitchen while Alfred and Lois politely argue some of the finer details of the suits, the man answers the phone.

“Hello?”

“Batman! Where are you, you said you’d be home before patrol!” The voice of Dick Grayson shouts through the speakers of the device. In the background, Tim and Jason could be heard arguing about leftovers. 

The man almost appears shocked as he checks the screen to see that he is two hours late and hasn’t thought to call his children. “Sorry about that, I got sidetracked.”

“Side-tracked!? By what?! I had to do patrols in Gotham with Batgirl and Robin when I’m supposed to be in Blüdhaven! I can’t let your life overtake my duties when-”

“Dick, chum, I’m sorry about that but this is kind of important-”

“What could be so important that you skip patrolling Gotham!? I have access to the BatComputer and I don’t see anything-”

“I’m helping Damian make a Robin uniform.”

Dick squawks on the other end of the line as frantic rustling could be heard. It also sounds like violent shoving is occurring when a different voice comes through. “B, what the hell! I’m Robin and you said you weren’t going to let that little brat-”

“Tim, give me back the phone! BRUCE you fucking asshole, if you bring another kid into this I’m going to kill you and no Lazarus pit will be able to bring you bac-”

“Guys, that’s my phone!”

“Fuck you, Dick!”

Bruce sighs and rubs the bridge of his nose as he can picture what exactly is going on with perfect accuracy. “It’s not a legitimate uniform. It’s just a costume. Something Clark said about childhood and dress up but I wasn’t listening.”

“Hey!” Clark whines across the room listening in unintentionally due to his super hearing.

After a few more rustling noises and swearing the eldest son’s voice finally comes back through the speakers to the protest of his younger brothers. “So let me get this straight. You are still in Hamilton with Alfred and the Kents just making adorable superhero costumes for children?”

“We also got ice cream!” Superman shouts making sure that his voice could be heard through the phone.

“And you got ice cream?”

“Hey Dick, guess who’s the best super sibling right now? It’s not you!”

“IS THAT SUPERGIRL?!” The man screeches through the phone causing Bruce to pull it away from his ear.

“Technically you’re Jon’s first cousin once removed.” Bruce explains to the girl.

“I’m like a sister!” She calls back as she continues her efforts sewing Damian’s zipper into some red leather.

Incoherent shouting can be heard through the phone as it’s stolen by Jason. “B, you tell that bitch that she don’t got shit on us!”

“Language.”

“Fuck your language!” He hollers before the phone is stolen again by Tim.

“Just making sure, you’re not replacing me?”

“Tim, I would never do that to you.”

“Just making sure.” He breathes a sigh of relief before he continues speaking in a more tranquil manner. “Also how grounded would a certain someone be if they… oh I don’t know… use Justice League emergency tech for personal business into one of the most secure and protected locations in the database?”

“Tim what did you do?”

“It’s not me this time I swear!” He screams through the phone when loud stomping could be heard from upstairs, amplified by the cricket wood. 

Everyone in the Kent’s living room and kitchen goes quiet at the obvious signs of an intruder entering the home. Bruce groans knowing exactly what’s going on and tell his son, “Tim, you’re in charge until I get back tomorrow.”

“Got it. So he’s super grounded. I just wanted to know, thanks bye!” The teenager quickly spits out before hanging up the phone. 

The stomping gets louder as it heads towards the stairs and the person causing the noise becomes visible as they finally hit the ground floor. Nightwing, still in uniform, appears before them clearly out of breath and a bit sweaty if his limp hair is a good indicator. Bruce turns to Lois to apologize for his eldest son’s sudden intrusion but she waves him off and tells him she doesn’t mind; that it’s Clark and Kara’s fault for goading him over the phone. The man is just grateful the window shades are closed. 

“B, I can’t believe you didn’t invite me! I’m always involved with costumes and fun!” The young man cries enraged, getting up in Batman’s face. 

“Master Dick, it seems that you have forgotten your manners. It appears that I need to give you some more etiquette lessons.” Alfred declares as he puts down the pants he was almost finished with.

The man in black and blue freezes and shrivels under the hard gaze of his adoptive grandfather. He mutters out a quick apology and walks up to everyone individually to greet everyone. He tries to hug his little brother, but he gets bit on the shoulder for his trouble. Jon was more receptive to his hugs so it wasn’t a total loss. 

“Dick, do you know how grounded you are right now?” Bruce asks once his child was finished with his pleasantries. 

“I know I am but that doesn’t matter. I’m trying to earn some big brother points here.” Dick whispers to his father making sure that Damian couldn’t hear him. “I’m three for three on favorite brother but Damian doesn’t even let me near him! I’ve tried everything besides letting him train but I can’t do that with him! Now he’s doing crafts with friends and eating ice cream and I’m not there for it! Those are some serious points I’m losing!”

“Points?” Bruce questions with a straight face.

The shorter man does what appears to be a strangling motion before throwing his hands to the ground frustrated. “You wouldn’t understand B, you’ve never been a big brother. You’re just the guy with the adoption problem!”

“Riiiight… Are you going to stay in uniform or are you going to change?” the father asks gesturing to all Nightwings attire.

Blue eyes look down at the spandex he’s wearing then quickly glancing at the boys in the kitchen, who are quietly staring at him whilst petting the excited dog, then back to his dad. “Nah, no one is going to walk up on us at 1 AM. Besides, I think the kids like the uniform.” Dick turns back and loudly asks, “What do you two think of my outfit?”

“It looks tight and inefficient.” Damian states.

“I think it looks cool!” Jon bellows with a bright smile.

“See, they didn’t say they hated it.”

Kara laughs and puts the leather vest she was working on down on her lap as she asks, “Did you really come here to get your ego stroked by elementary schoolers, or are you going to come to help us?”

“Oh, right.”

With the interruption having passed, the families continue working but at a breakneck pace as it’s obvious that the children are running out of energy. The two do their best to stay awake to see the completion of their costume to the end but unsurprisingly Jon is the first to go, falling face-first onto the coffee table before slamming into the floor. His parents are grateful that their boy has gotten invincibility first lest he would have already killed himself twenty times over by now. Damian is the next to be dominated over by his exhaustion as he trips on the carpet, a mistake he will vehemently deny, and into his brother's lap. When the young man shakes him it’s clear that the boy has fallen asleep much to the delight of the man himself.

“Holy moly Batman, take a picture!” He quietly squeals willing his body to stop any movement in fear of waking the boy.

“That’s a line I haven’t heard in a while.” Clark laughs as he watches his friend pull out his Bat-phone. 

“Uncle Clark now is not the time!”

Kara chuckles as she carries Jon, who was laid on the couch, into her arms and scootches up to the Wayne siblings. “This is a much better picture.” 

“Kara, you are ruining the shot!”

“Rude, any picture with me in it is instantly a million times better, and are you going to deny Jon the opportunity to take a picture with Nightwing?”

“Well if it’s for Jon-”

Kara slaps him hard on the shoulder jokingly while trying to hold back a fit of laughter. “Hahaha! Careful there boy wonder, your ego is going straight to your fat ass.”

“I’ll have you know my ass is fantastic.”

“Language,” Bruce says out of habit but knows that no one ever listens to him about it.

"It’s fine Bruce, it’s not like the kids will hear them.” Lois says before letting out a large yawn. “Man, I might be the next one to pass out if we don’t finish this soon.”

“It doesn’t usually take this long to make these things,” Alfred comments serging the last seam on Jonathan’s costume. “but young master Damian insisted on everything being perfect. He’s growing up to be the little micromanager.”

“Yeah, he nearly bit my head off when I almost burned Jon’s cape. Granted it was a kind of warranted but he is, like, really angry; and that’s coming from someone who used to own a Red Lantern ring.” The blonde reminisces as she props her little cousin up against her. 

Bruce puts down the phone he was still trying to get work for the purposes of a picture as he looks to the newest addition of his family. His scowl deepens as he tries to come up with a reply to that statement but doesn’t dare say anything. He could only imagine the horrors he had to endure under the tutelage of the League of Assassins. He tries to not remember his own experience too much but he finds himself being forced to in recent days. Any number of things could have caused Damian’s rather savage temper and none of them is good. Even if Damian was just naturally born this angry he doesn’t know if he got it from his mother or himself.

“He is.” Is all the man says on the topic of his son’s furor. 

“I’m sure he’ll be fine Bruce. Remember Jason? He was a little ball of rage but he turned out fine.” Superman reassures as he resizes Damian’s domino mask.

“Yeah, no. I love him but let’s not try recreating that. We have enough Jason in our lives thank you very much.” Richard laughs as he also props his unconscious baby brother up for the picture. “Aw, he looks so harmless like this.”

“Careful now, if you move him around too much he’ll wake up,” Lois calls out as she snips loose strings off of the gloves she was working on. “Bruce, do you need help with your phone?”

“I know what I’m doing.” He affirms as he takes the photo.

“B, you gotta send me that.”

Alfred leans over his son’s shoulder to look at the image with a warm smile on his face. “I will make sure that we all get our own copy of it, Master Dick.” The older man looks at the clock on the wall before quietly humming to himself. “It appears that we have greatly overstayed our welcome.”

Clark puts his hand on the butler’s shoulder while shaking his head, “Nonsense. We don’t mind having y’all over so late. Here, we got a guest room and a pull-out couch. Why don’t we put the kids to bed and finish this up tomorrow? I can even get the air mattress out so the boys can both sleep in Jon’s room.”

“You’re absolutely right Mister Kent. I don’t know why we decided to stay up so late.”

“We probably got caught up in the fun,” Kara says elbowing Dick in the gut. “We were just having such a good time bonding and making happy memories. I think the kids will remember today for a very long time and look back fondly when all FIVE of us came together to help them-”

“Oh my god, you are the worst!” The young man groans, throwing his head back.

The young woman cackles cruelty as she carries Jon over her shoulder and begins to head up the stairs to his room. “What? I can’t hear you over the wonderful memories we all made without you!”

Dick quickly shifts Damian in his arms princess style, Bruce taking another picture to immortalize the moment, and rushes upstairs to do the same. The older adults clean everything up in a way that would make continuing their work the next day easier before Lois pulls out the couch bed for Alfred while it was agreed that Bruce and Dick will take the guest bedroom upstairs. A loud thump echoed through the house from Jon’s room and before anyone could move a panicked shout alerts them to the situation.

“Everything is fine!” 

“Dick dropped Jon!”

“WOW, Kara. I’d at least like to have a ring on my finger before I’m fucked over from behind.”

“Oh please, I know your man whore ass doesn’t wait till marriage!”

“Kids, keep it down and watch your language.” The farmer yells as he calms down, knowing his son isn’t hurt. His son’s power, he’s hoping it will be his only power, significantly helped his stress levels go down.

“Sorry!” 

“Sorry Uncle Clark!”

The man sighs and looks over to his fellow father and asks, “Does it ever get easier?”

“The language?” 

“No, raising a son as they get older.”

Bruce laughs, an honest to god laugh, having to steady himself on the arm of the couch along with Alfred who also shares a hearty laugh. They calm down enough for the billionaire to answer the Man of Steel. “NO. No. Just no.”

“I must agree with Master Bruce. It doesn’t help that the man and his children go out fighting crime in festive costumes.”

“They’re uniforms.”

“Of course they are BAT-man. Of course they are.”

The first thing Jon notices when he wakes up is the bright morning sun in his eyes. The second thing he notices is the sound of metal scraping against something hard. The seven-year-old shoots upright and turns to the sound to find Damian in his room sharpening what appears to be a sword that Jon sees samurai use on TV. The darker-skinned boy doesn’t acknowledge Jonathan’s presence as he continues to work on his blade.

“Uh… Mornin’?” Jon greets testing the waters and trying to decipher if he was still asleep or not. All he got for his troubles was a low grunt from the other boy’s throat. The younger boy slowly gets out of bed, tip-toeing- around the air mattress on the floor, and kneels down on the floor next to his friend. “Where did you get that?”

“I had it on me.” He states as if it explains everything.

Blue eyes scan the other boy and not finding any plausible place where he could have hidden a katana on him. “... Where?”

“I’m not revealing my secrets to you.”

“Okay?”

They sit in peaceful silence while Jon tries to get over his leftover sleepiness and occasionally leans on the older boy’s shoulder before being violently shoved off every time. The sounds of sharpening metal softly fill the room to work as white noise, not making Jonathan’s job of trying to wake up any easier. That’s when Jon’s very delicate door slams open with a very define “crack” sound as it hits the adjacent wall. “GOOD MORNING EVERYBO- Holy cow, where do you keep getting these!?” Dick Grayson, now dressed in a plain white shirt that is obviously too big for him and jeans, hollers when he sees his brother with a sword. The man quickly confiscates it and inspects the blade curiously. “I swear we take one away and 5 more just randomly appear.”

“As I just explained to Jonathan, it is a secret.”

Dick shakes his head and motions for the two to stand up so that they can follow him downstairs. “Come on, Lois and Alfie made pancakes and scrambled eggs.”

“Where did you get the eggs?”

Jon jumps up and hauls Damian over to the window to show him the chicken pen they have. “We get our eggs from there! Dad says that fresh eggs are the best kind!”

The boy stares at the structure with a deep scowl, pressing his head against the cold glass of the window, asking, “And they like it?”

Confused Jon tells Damian, “Uh, yeah? I mean I think they do but I can’t talk to chickens. They get to walk around the farm but sometimes they end up in Kathy’s yard and they bother the cows but I like to think that they’re friends.”

“Mmm… Alright.” With that, the boy gets off the bed and pushes past his older brother towards the stairs.

Jon looks out the window to the chickens in the yard then back to the door curiously before shrugging it off and trotting past the man and to the kitchen. Clark was in the process of bringing some chairs and the portable table from outside in the kitchen when he sees the children walk in. He gives them a short greeting before continuing his work. Damian walks up to the family’s butler and begins conversing with him, i.e interrogating, about a plethora of things that Jon doesn’t understand. He doesn’t pay attention because his Dad always tells him it’s rude to eavesdrop so he moves back into the living room to check on his costume. 

He feels incredibly bad about falling asleep since he couldn’t help more with his own garment but doesn’t dwell on it for long when he sees it completed and handing on the handrail of the stairs. The child squeals with delight as he presses the incredibly soft outfit against his cheeks and jumps with joy. He violently yanks the costume off the wood and hugs it against himself as he runs around the room screaming incoherent happy noises. 

The boy continues his little excited fit before crashing into a very tired Bruce Wayne who is clearly not a morning person as he doesn’t notice the child that he knocked onto the ground. Jon apologizes for bumping into him to which he just gets a low grunt in response. Dick picks the boys up and apologizes to Jon explaining that his father is not a morning person. After brushing him off briskly the man looks down at the clothes in Jon’s hands and says, “I’m really glad you like it. Everyone worked really hard on it.”

“It looks really good!” Jon chirps giving the man a hug.

He ruffles the child’s already messy bed head as he continues speaking. “It sure does! All the adults got up early so they could make sure everything was finished before you and Dami woke up.”

“Really?! Where’s Dami’s?”

“Stop calling me that, both of you!” Damian calls out from the kitchen, not bothering to leave his spot.

Ignoring his brother’s complaint Dick replies, “Dami’s costume is still being washed. You both can try them on after you wash up and eat.”

Nodding his head strongly Jon goes to the kitchen to help set up the table. When everyone was seated and served they all started eating their delicious breakfast. Actually it was more like brunch seeing as Jon and Damian woke up late but the point still stands that it’s breakfast-food. Jon attempts to pour the entire bottle of maple syrup before his mother confiscated it so she could pour it on her own pancakes. Dick tries to steal Jon’s Superman marshmallow cereal only to be stopped by Alfred. Everyone else at their meals in peace with the occasional small talk in between bites. When breakfast was over the adults cleaned up the table while the children wash up in the restroom.

“Hey Dami, are you excited to wear the costume?” Jon asks as he brushes his teeth while standing on a tool so that he can see his progress.

“Uniform. And no.” Damian replies, examining the spare toothbrush Superman gave him for use. He doesn’t trust it.

“What, why not?”

“It’s just a uniform Jonathan and not even an authentic one like the one father has.” Damian explains as he decides to burn the brush after he’s done using it.

“What does style have to do with it?”

“You’re thinking of aesthetic,” Damian corrects, “I’m surprised that you retained that tidbit of information. No, authentic. It means genuine. My father’s wards all have material made of the highest quality, but I’m stuck having to work with inferior products.”

“Doesn’t that just mean it’s better?” The child asks spitting out the foam in is mouth and rinsing it with bubblegum mouthwash. 

The other child quirks a slender brow at the boy through the mirror and presses for more information. “What do you mean?”

The boy spits out the pink liquid and roughly cleans his face with the navy hand towel next to him on the wall. He glances at the older boy in the mirror and explains, “They don’t want us to be heroes, right? So if we can be better heroes with less cool stuff then that just makes us a bajillion times better.”

“That’s not a real unit of measurement but I do see your point.” He says as he begins to brush his teeth. 

“Besides, what did you wear when you were doing all that training you keep bragging about?”

“A simple silk ro-”

“And that’s not super fancy or whatever! I think. Is it?”

“It is but it’s not protective.”

“See! If anything this is an upgrade!”

The child continues to brush his teeth and when he finishes he turns to Jon so that he’s not just looking at him through the mirror to see a stupidly wide grin and bright eyes looking right back at him. “You are as simple-minded as you make yourself out to be.”

“Thanks!”

With a sigh, Damian pushes the boy out of his path to leave the bathroom and try on his uniform in Jonathan’s room. Jon follows behind to see that the boy is already changed within the three seconds he didn’t keep his eyes on him. “What the-”

“Don’t be shocked Jonathan, you are already aware of the fact I am proficient in a plethora of skills.” He says as he readjusts a green leather glove on his hand.

“No, I mean, that too but where did you get another sword?” Jon asks as he points to the small katana on the ground next to Damian’s new green boots on the ground.

The boy looks where Jonathan was pointing and shrugs. “I have my ways.”

“Riiiiiiight…” Jon moves to the bed where his costume was laying and inspects it before taking off his clothes and putting the onesie on. “What do you think?” He asks his friend as he turns around with a dramatic flair, his fluffy cape billowing out from the wind from the open window. 

Emerald eyes stare blankly at him in his mock Superman pose while Jon keeps up his pose, faltering slightly when he doesn’t get a reaction. He doesn’t know what he was expecting but he should have learned by now that getting any kind of positive reaction from Damian is near impossible. He stays in formation only a short time longer before slouching completely. That’s when Damian pipes up finally with, “You look even more childish than if you just went with the cheap jacket.”

“No, I totally look like a superhero! I even have boots!” He shows off his boots by lifting one of his legs defiantly. “All cool superheroes wear boots! Wonder Woman has boots!”

“I have boots too Jonathan but that doesn’t mean much as you still look like a child.”

“I am a child. You’re a child too! You’re only three years older than me so that means you’re… um…” Jon holds out his hand, counting under his breath before holding all 4 out of 5 fingers on his left hand to Damian. “That means you’re a fourth grader!”

“Jonathan, wouldn’t I be in fifth grade according to this country’s inferior advancement system based on age?” Damian points out looking at the number on the hand in front of him.

“Uh… Maybe? I dunno, summer birthdays are weird. Whatever my boots are cool!”

“That wasn’t what I was saying but you are free to take the course of this conversation back to your boots.”

“They’re Heely’s too! Apparently Mr. Dick bought a new pair, cut them up, and made them into these new ones with a bunch of glue!” Jon explains looking at the soles of his feet. 

“Is that even practical?” Damian asks looking at the sloppy handiwork.

“I dunno but it’s fun! At least until I get superspeed like my dad. Unless I don’t because I’m only half Kryptonian.”

“Half of the powers are better than none of the powers.” The older boy says as he picks up the sword from the floor and moves to head downstairs to where everyone was waiting in the living room. “They’re treating us no better than pageant dogs.” He hisses as he peaks through the rails on the stairs at the adults sitting patiently around and on the couch. 

“I like dog shows,” Jon whispers behind him. “Dogs are really cute.”

“Of course you do.” He groans then heads the rest of the way down with Jon skipping down behind him. 

When the two hit the base of the stairs the adults turn around to look at them. Almost everyone is in awe at the rather adorable kids in their costumes before noticing that Damian has a sword on his person.

“Aww~”

“Oh my God, I thought I confiscated that this morning!”

“Shut up Dick, they look adorable!” Supergirl coos as she grabs the old camcorder that Jon recognizes as the one his mother used two weeks earlier to record him. “Jon look over here!”

“I’m sorry, I will not shut up, he has a sword!” Dick cries out as he runs over to take it out of Damian’s hands. “But you both look good. Almost like real heroes.”

“And I’m comfy!” Jon chirps flapping his capes in his arms like a bird.

“Yes, yes you are very comfy.” Clark says from the couch. Jon runs up to his father and jumps into his lap while Lois hugs her son saying the same.

Damian and his father, who was seated on the recliner next to Alfred, Just give each other quite yet affirmative grunts much to the chagrin of the first son. The family butler takes this time to remind them that they should not expect to go out crime-fighting like their fathers anytime in the near future just because they have outfits. Jon is about to complain but Damin shuts him up with a look that is menacing even through the domino mask. He agrees with Pennyworth for both of them as they continue to converse with their respective parents.

While Jon is having a good time wearing his new costume he can’t help but wonder what Damian was trying to say with the look he gave him. Jon hasn’t known the boy long but he can tell that the youngest Wayne is always planning something. He just hopes that whatever it is he’ll explain it to Jon.

But he probably won’t.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Can you tell I used to work in a fabric store? I actually put a lot of my personal experiences in this. For example, I used to live in a city in New Jersey but moved to the south (Not Kansas) in a place with lots of farms so I use that to help describe each place. Just small things like that. Nothing too big or personal obviously, but just the little things that make it feel more accurate. 
> 
> The costumes. I could have just used the ones they wear in the comic but that wouldn't make too much sense with how I'm writing them now. So instead I based it off kids playing heroes and making it more kid-ish. Plus I just like designing original costumes. They're not better than the canon outfits by any means, Damian's canon Robin costume is my fav, but I want to have fun writing and drawing this.
> 
> I'm seeing those Kudos go up and it makes my heart sore and I'm still grateful for the comment I got last chapter! Thank you all again for reading and hopefully, I'll have the next chapter finished. Here's a hint on what it's going to be about: The Fortress of Attitude!


	7. Fortress Fight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Relationships aren't always as they seem especially when it's between Supers and Bats.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The first time I'm late and it's only by two hours! WOOOO! I NEED SLEEP, FUCK EDITING, WE DIE LIKE JASON; RECKLESS AND TIRED! Sorry if things get a bit confusing. I finished this chapter two days ago and then I re-read it and hated it so I deleted 7k words and wrote 13k words that I like much better but am still not satisfied with.
> 
> Ever have a family gathering as a child only to realize there was shit going on behind the scene and are taken aback when everything goes sideways? No, just me? Well okay then. At least y'all know the inspiration for this chapter.

Few people in this world would ever call Damian Wayne a calm person. That isn’t to say that he couldn’t be calm at all, he has the ability to be extremely calm in the heat of battle, but his temperament is something many would call wild on the best of days. When he’s not angry he’s still not calm as his cold arrogance is what shines through making any situation he’s in slightly tenser. He knows this about himself very well and while he doesn’t like to admit to any weaknesses that he may have it is also ingrained in him to always strive to be better as the heir to two legacies. 

So that brings the half Arabic boy to reflect on his current predicament with a hint of humor. Damian, in a sea of adult or at least significantly older “family” members, is somehow the only rational and calm one. He watches on with mild interest as what was supposed to be a day of normal child-like memory building devolved into some sort of sick perversion of a battle royal scenario against the entire Super Clan. 

Now, it might be hard for some to imagine the depths of violence and depravity this day has spiraled into so quickly. If the child were to describe the events of today to anyone else they might believe that he was over exaggerating; they would be fools to think he would do such a thing. He honestly couldn’t make up what was happening right in front of him right now if he tried.

While lost in thought he notices the body of Jason Todd being flung in his direction and steps out of the way for obvious reasons. As the male’s spine is slammed against a tree he doesn’t have much time to recover as he braces himself to be tackled by Kara Zor-El flying at high speeds. She effectively tears down the tree and several rows of forest along the path as the two continue fighting. Damian looks on as the two exchange blows in the air before he’s distracted by another member of his clan, the only female, Cassandra Cain who hurls Lana Lang (Superwoman) directly over Damian’s head into the newly created clearing next to him.

The two women continuously exchange blows undeterred by the sound of an explosion from the opposite end of the clearing. The source of the explosion happened to be the infuriating Tim Drake who has somehow built a pipe bomb within the last ten minutes no one was watching him and set if off against Clark Kent, who is immediately ambushed by Bruce Wayne. As Damian is admiring his father’s excellent form angry hisses take his attention away from that battle to another. Selina Kyle and Lois Lane are tumbling through the grass in a catfight, pun not intended, of sorts as the two women pull on each other’s hair and dig their nails into their opponents’ flesh.

The eldest of the Wayne siblings is currently swinging through the branches of the woods to aid the second eldest and occasionally throwing makeshift Batarangs at the woman who, in all honesty, is pulverizing the male. A loud string of very unique swears draws in the boy’s attention to the nonphysical but still intense fight between Pennyworth and Ma & Pa Kent. The man always seemed so relaxed even under the most egregious circumstances that his green eyes almost don’t believe what he is seeing. The elderly man is absolutely red in the face as he shouts very creative insults at the couple who banter back with their own insults of a more country nature. Even the family dogs are at each other’s throats with Krypto the Superdog and Ace the Bat hound snarling and biting one another in rapid succession. 

And then there was Jonathan and Damian themselves, the only two somehow not in a heated confrontation. While the older of the duo has been watching on in morbid fascination he has neglected to notice how his little pet project has been handling the situation. He turns to his left, expecting the farm boy to also be watching on since Jon is a curious child, only to find something more horrifying in his wake. 

Tears.

Oh no.

How did everything spiral out of control so fast?

Well, it all started with a treehouse.

Jonathan Kent woke up in his newly minted superhero costume for the fourth day in a row as the boy refused to take it off for anything other than cleaning and chores ever since his family made it for him. It also helped that the costume was extra comfy making so that Jon would never want to take it off. Sadly all good things must come to an end as he finally decides to retire the cape temporarily due to it getting caught on one too many doorknobs. As Jon was hanging up the onesie in the closet his shoulder bumped into the unstable shelf to his right causing several old newspapers to fall to the floor. 

With a groan, the blue-eyed boy finished his current task to move on to the new one. He kneels down to pick up the litter of Superman-related articles from The Daily Planet that he used to collect before being told of his father’s identity. He reminisces over his excitement he used to have when his parents brought home a new paper for him to add to his collection and is a bit embarrassed, now wondering what his parents must have been thinking of him at the time. He’s almost finished putting away the loose leaf when a certain old headline catches his eye.

“HALL OF JUSTICE OPENS TO THE PUBLIC!”

The paper is older than Jon himself by about five years and brings back memories of the boy begging his parents to take him to Washington DC to see it to no avail. He still really wants to go see it, as it’s the Justice League headquarters, but the articles bring something else to Jon’s simple mind. Something that settles in his skull and refuses to go away unless he acts on this idea. 

He wants a base of his own.

With that thought in mind, the child puts away the papers and trots down the stairs to the landline in the living room and dials in a specific number written on a Batman-themed sticky note. The other end of the line rings five times before a thick British accent is heard through the speakers. “Hello, this is the Wayne Family manor. To whom am I speaking to?”

“Hello? Mr. Pennyworth? This is Jon.” Jon replies wondering if Damian’s house has a caller ID or not.

“Oh why hello, Jonathan. Would you like me to fetch the young master for you?” The man says, the boy hearing his smile over the phone.

“Yes please Mr. Pennyworth!”

“You’re very welcome. If you could just wait but a moment…” With that, the line goes silent for about a minute as Jon impatiently stares at the roster-shaped clock above the phone before he finally hears a click. Thinking that the call accidentally dropped Jon was about to hang up and try again when a familiar voice breaks through the silence. “Jonathan?”

“Hi, Dami!” The boy cheers with relief that he answered.

“Jonathan what did you call for?”

With uncontained enthusiasm, the child shouts, “Dami, we need a base!”

“... A base?” 

“You know, a base, fort, a secret hideout, a-”

“No, I understand what a base is but what do you want me to do about it?” 

“I dunno, I just thought it would be a good idea. If we had our very own base then we would have to keep traveling a million miles just to see each other and do whatever we want!”

On the other side of the phone line, Jon could hear the rustling of papers and the closing of drawers before Damian’s voice came back through the speakers. “You’re skipping nearly 53 pages of my plan.”

“You mean that huge folder you tried making me read?” Jon asks remembering the back to the day of Damian’s birthday party.

“Jon, this is an extensive and detail plan based on hours if not days of intensive research of the successful succession of-”

“Dami it’s a big binder full of words I can’t read in a language I’m pretty sure is not English. Besides, superheroes don’t need an order for stuff like this, we should totally have a secret base now!” Jon whines as he leans against the wall and slumps down onto the floor. “You have that big stupid folder full of stuff so you know something about how to get us one!“

“Jonathan you’re acting like a child.”

“I am a child and so are you!”

A loud sigh reverberates through the phone and the child can clearly imagine Damian rubbing the sides of his head as if he were standing in front of Jon. “-Tt- Might as well skip to fortress seeing as you have dedicated yourself to ruining my plans with early costume designs and now this.”

“So you’ll help me build a secret base?”

Another sigh is heard through the speakers. “No, you’re helping me make one. I’ll research our options and contact you when I’m finished.”

“How long will that take?”

“Several days at the very least,” Damian explains anticipating the outburst the statement will cause. “Maybe more seeing as father has restrained my computer time to two hours a day. Some foolish action taken after he read a study on childhood development.”

“Whaaaaaaaaaaa-”

“Jonathan, you can’t rush research-”

A loud definite click is heard through the phone making Jon think the phone really did drop the call again before a deep voice reverberates through the receiver. “Hey Gremlin, I need you to get off the landline.”

“Hi, Mister Jason.” Jon greets in a polite manner.

“Hi Jon,” The man greets back before going back to his previous statement. “Anyways I’m expecting a call from my stupid ass group project partners and you’re taking up the line.”

“You have a cellular phone Todd,” the youngest Wayne growls. “Why did you give them the home phone number?”

“I ain’t giving those assholes my personal phone number! Now get off the phone.”

“I’m not getting off the phone for you!”

Jon decides to use this time to interrupt before things could get heated. “Sorry Mr. Jason, but Dami and I are talking about something really important.”

“What could be more important than 25% of my final grade?”

“Jonathan don’t-” The older boy begins to command but is quickly interrupted by Jon’s happy answer to Todd’s question. 

“We’re going to make a secret base!”

“And there he goes, compromising our plans.” Damian mutters under his breath loud enough to be heard.

“A secret base? What, you two are gonna make some stupid treehouse or something?” The student mocks.

Jon’s heart flutters at the word and he loudly announces his enthusiasm. “A TREEHOUSE! Dami that’s perfect! Let’s build a treehouse!”

“A fortress hidden in the trees… good coverage, higher ground, and a scenic background.”

“Oh my god, I was joking!” Jason shouts.

“Jonathan you are many things and a receptacle for convenience is one of them. I shall be in contact soon.”

“Okay bye!” Jon says, still smiling at the thought he might be getting a great treehouse. 

“...Bye.” Damian replies before ending the call, but not before Jon could hear him shout for Alfred. That last click definitely meant that the call ended this time so the boy gets off from the floor to put the phone back on the wall. He really hopes that Damian can find a way to get them a treehouse.

Two days later Jon’s short childhood attention span nearly forgot all about the secret base fiasco until the phone rang during family movie night. They were in the middle of Scooby-Doo on Zombie Island as Clark gets up from the couch to answer while Jon buries his face into his mother's shoulder in fear at a particularly scary scene. The man spoke on the line for a minute when he suddenly excused himself upstairs, taking the phone with him. 

Half an hour later as the credits of the movie begin rolling Lois goes up to check on her husband, Jon following closely behind her after turning off the TV and the lights. When they get there they see the muscular man in his grey sweats hunched over his work desk with a calculator, several checkbooks, scatter papers, a couple of broken pens, and a map of the United States opened up with several places crossed out. Jon’s about to ask what his dad was doing when Lois put a finger to his mouth and held him back as she listened to the conversation taking place over the phone.

“Bruce, you can’t use ebony to make a treehouse! It’s too expensive and it’s not made for building! Maybe a good oak or cedar would be best. Pa used that when he made my treehouse as a kid. It was the same sturdy stuff he used to make our barn and it’s still standing.” Jon’s father shouts into the receiver of the phone and looks a bit more dented than when Jon last saw it. 

“I’m not having you turn my boy’s treehouse into some barn Kent.” A deep growly voice that belongs to Mr. Wayne answers through the phone in a monotone pitch. 

“It’s my boy’s treehouse too and I’m not going to let you turn it into some functioning superhero base or a night lounge!”

“I was just saying that a teleporter isn’t that weird to have and it would cut travel time by over 3000%. We wouldn’t have to fly them over to each other's house when they want to have a playdate.”

“Bruce, I can fly them over if that's really a problem.”

A grunt makes its way over the speaker before Batman speaks. “There’s also the fact that your idea of a treehouse is an empty wooden box with a door. There’s no entertainment, electricity, food, bathrooms, and it’s not even bulletproof. What if something happens such as an alien invasion?”

“My God Bruce, what do you think our children will be doing?! You’re planning a bomb shelter for them and we agreed that they should just have a normal place to play.” Clark nearly screams bringing the phone closer to his face. 

“We also agreed that it should be safe and not all kids are indestructible.” 

Lois steps further into the room as he watches his extremely stressed husband work himself up over what seems to be a treehouse for the children. She takes the phone out of the man’s iron grip and presses the mute button on the keypad. “Clark, it’s late. You should sleep on whatever you two were fighting about this time and talk about it tomorrow.”

The man’s blue eyes soften as his wife holds his hand and gives her a small smile before going back to pick up the phone. He un-mutes the device and tells his friend, “Sorry, it’s getting late. Can we continue this discussion tomorrow?”

“Hm.”

“That’s great, good night.” With that Clark hangs up the phone and runs a hand through his hair as he sees Jon in the doorway. “So… Heard you wanted a treehouse.”

The brunette snorts at the man’s awkward segway but doesn’t say anything about it while Jon tilts his head at his Father’s newly dissolved appearance. “Dad, are you okay?”

“I’m fine Jon, just having a tiny disagreement among friends.” He reassures him, walking up to his son and ruffles his messy black hair a bit. “So, treehouse?”

It’s obvious that the kid doesn’t believe his father in the slightest but he doesn’t think it would be a problem to move past it. He gives his dad a sunny grin and tells him, “Yeah! I talked to Dami about it a few days ago!”

“That’s nice. I’ll get to work on that for you before the summer’s over.” He says leaving his room and heading to the bathroom to freshen up before bed. 

Jon thought that would have been the end of the conversation but over the next day, it appears that the revelation set something ablaze in the Kent family as his relatives began calling the landline with rapid succession for ours wanting to talk to each other about the treehouse that doesn’t exist yet. News spread quickly in the family and next thing he knows he’s being shoved into the truck by his Aunt Lana and driven to an undisclosed location seven hours away from home with his entire extended family on his father’s side and a bunch of barn wood. There was so much wood that Jon was afraid of it spilling out of the truck and hitting traffic. 

The family pulls up to a dirt road into a fast and luscious forest driving another half an hour to get to an empty grassy clearing. There was nothing around them but Clark announced that they had arrived at their destination. Ma Kent unbuckles him from his booster seat while Kara, Clark and Pa Kent unload the wood from the bed of the truck. Jon thinks that he’s having some serious whiplash with how fast everything was moving. 

Lana and Lois talk about mundane adult things while Jon is forced to sit in between them on the grass, not allowed to help get the heavy wood out of the red truck. It’s a stupid reason; he’s invincible so it’s not like wood could hurt him. Since he can’t help he might as well talk to his aunt and grandma, who he hasn’t seen since his dad told him the family secret.

“Aunt Lana, you’re not related to dad.”

Confused, the long redhead answers “Not by blood. Why do you ask Kiddo?”

“Then how come you have superpowers?”

“Oh, that? Radiation. Weird things happen when you’re the best friend of Clark Kent.” She laughs, patting the boy on the head.

“You think that’s bad? I married the guy!” Lois laughs back, slapping her playfully across the arm. The two women laugh while Jon looks at them bewildered since he’s not in on the inside joke they’re sharing. 

Ma Kent sighs fondly as she takes her grandson into her lap and gives him some oatmeal cookies she baked for the trip. “Oh, don’t mind them, Jon. here, have another cookie.”

Well, Jon’s not the kind of boy who turns down homemade cookies.

“Ma, he’s already eaten all of the chocolate chips!” Lois sighs as she watches her baby boy scarf down sweets like there’s no tomorrow.

“Oh hush now dear, Jonathan’s all skin and bone! Some sugar ain’t gonna hurt him now, especially now that he’s invincible.”

“What, little Jonathan’s power’s kicked in? When did that happen?” Lana coos squishing the child’s cheeks between her hands. “He’s growing up so fast!”

“Clark didn’t say anything? It happened almost four weeks ago!” Lois gasps.

“Four weeks and I didn’t even get a text!”

“Oh dear, it looks like Clark is in big trouble.” The elderly woman chuckles as she looks at her son who freezes from the other side of the clearing. “Ooo, I think someone was eavesdropping. Such a bad habit.”

“Then he’ll know the butt-kicking I’m about to give him when I get the chance! I’m this kid’s Godmother for Christ’s sake.” Lana stands up to fulfill that threat but she stops, her face scrunching up and quickly looking to the sky. 

The other two Supers did the exact same thing while the four non-powered members of the Kent family curiously look in the same direction even though they know that they can’t see or hear anything. A couple of moments later loud noises and winds surround them nearly flinging the picnic blanket out from right under Jonathan’s feet. He couldn’t quite pinpoint what the sound was but everyone else knew by the relaxed expression on their faces. 

The sound was deafening to Jon’s young tiny ears as it got closer and soon enough the boy could see two helicopters flying above them. With sparkling blue eyes, the child looks at the aircraft in awe and shouts, “HOLY CRAP, A REAL HELICOPTER!”

“WHAT DID YOU SAY, SWEETIE?” Lois yells back to her son.

“HE SAID, ‘HOLY CRAP-’” Lana begins to explain but is cut off.

“JON, WATCH YOUR LANGUAGE!” Ma Kent shouts pinching the child’s ear

“WHAAAAT? MA, I CAN’T HEAR YOU!” Jon replies slightly in pain due to the ear pulling. 

The large black helicopters begin to land and quiet down, much to the relief of the normal humans in the area, the heavily tinted doors open up to reveal a woman with a black pixie cut Jon has never seen before. The slender woman jumps off the vehicle before it touches the ground and lands perfectly on her feet. She takes off a pair of thick amber goggles that seem to be the only protection she wore and straightens out her dark purple and black form-fitting dress. 

The helicopters’ blades stop moving as they touch the grass and from the already opened door appears a very exasperated Bruce Wayne pinching the bridge of his nose who’s holding Damian’s hand, and a black german shepherd. Damian is glaring daggers at the daredevil of a woman who is now waving nonchalantly at the Kents. The second helicopter opens up as the rest of the Wayne siblings come pouring out of the doors followed by Alfred. 

Clark walks up to the group of Waynes who are currently lying on the grass as if they’ve never touched land before, rolling around in the green as if it would disappear at any moment. The man looks down at the group and greets them only to have his greeting reciprocated by various unenthusiastic groans. He moves along to the woman, who gets a little too close to his dad in Jon’s opinion and greets her in the same way. He’s clearly uncomfortable by the distance but stays polite as she greets him back before he hurries over to Damian and Bruce, who is talking to Alfred. The rest of the family, after fixing themselves and the area around them, walk up to the aircraft to welcome the new arrivals. 

Everyone exchanged merry pleasantries as they help them get situated in the grassy field, Jon getting many head pats like he was some sort of dog. Jon went to hug the dog the Waynes brought with them but the canines just sat stoically, not reacting to the burst of affection he was giving it. He misses Krypto.

“Don’t look so sad, Ace loves hugs.” The woman Jon has never seen before says to Jon. “He’s just grouchy like his owner.” Bruce glares at the woman but doesn’t say anything other than a disapproving grunt. “See?”

“That’s funny, my dog loves hugs and always attacks everyone with licks!” Jon comments hugging the proud hound tighter before letting go and hoping to his feet to look at the stranger. “Hi! I’m Jonathan Samuel Kent but that’s long so people just call me Jon. What’s your name miss?”

“Hello Jon, my name is Selina.” She replies bending down slightly to be at an even eye level with the child. 

“Are you one of Dami’s siblings?” Jon asks, noticing that she looks relatively young and arrived with the family.

The sly smile she was wearing turns into a full-on genuine grin because of his words. “Well aren’t you a little charmer? No, I’m just a really close friend of Brucie’s.” She rights herself up and faces Clark, who was talking to Batman. “You’re raising a real Casanova here Farmboy!”

“What’s a Casanova?” Jon asks.

“Some random Italian guy who was a real hit with the ladies,” Selina explains casually with the wave of her hand. “Kind of a weirdo if you ask me.”

The explanation confuses Jon because he doesn’t think he’s an Italian weirdo and was already asking her, but it sounds like she was complimenting him so he just gives her a confused, “Thank you?”

“Ignore the crazy cat lady Jonathan and start pulling your weight like the rest of us.” Damian hisses next to him as he shoves a heavy box into the boy’s hands sending him crashing into the dirt.

“I’m a very sane cat lady.” She corrects smirking slyly at the child, clearly unintimidated.

“You’re a paramour, that is what you are.” He snatches the back of Jon’s collar and drags the boy away from the woman who gives them a curt wave as she leaves to attend other things. The younger boy holds the heavy wooden box in his lap as the rest of his body is being dragged across the grass and opens it to reveal weird circular disks. He doesn’t know what he’s looking at but it looks way more expensive than anything he has in his house. He digs inside past the disks to find two sleek security cameras. Using his brilliant elementary detective skills Jon concludes that he’s holding a security system of sorts, but that brings up the question about why he has one. 

Jon feels cold metal hit the back of his head making him realize that he has been hauled to the helicopter Damian was riding. The adults of the Wayne family were taking turns heading inside and coming out with boxes similar to the one Jon is holding. Damian heads inside to do the same thing and Jon assumes that he’s meant to help. Before Jon could hop inside he’s being lifted out from behind and walked away by his cousin Kara.

“Jon, you just let them deal with all the fancy tech stuff while we do some good old fashion building.” She declares proudly sauntering to the truck to grab an extremely large metal toolbox. “Here, I already found the perfect tree for your house!”

“Without me?” Jon asks, upset by the fact that he hasn’t done anything to help with his own treehouse. He might be young but the child would still have liked to have a say in the process.

“It’s okay Jon, Pa and I made sure it was the best tree!” She walks over to a different direction Jon can’t see because he’s still over the blonde’s shoulder like a sack of potatoes when the girl suddenly stops. She drops the toolbox with a gasp and quickly puts down the little boy as she sprints over to Jason and Dick, who were doing their best to cut down an oak tree with what appears to be explosives. The trunk of the tree has clearly taken damage and looks like the entire thing could fall over at any minute. “What the hell are you two doing!?” 

“Relax Blondie, we’re just making room for the treehouse.” Jason brushes her off indifferently as he watches his older brother set off another small controlled explosion.

With her jaw dropped the young woman stares at the man indignantly. “What do you mean to make room!? We’re in a damn clearing and that tree was the one we were going to use for the treehouse!”

The man rolls his teal eyes and ignores Supergirl’s indignant tone as the blast of another explosion pushes his hair back. “When the hell did we decide on that?”

“Pa and I decided on it before you even got here! Who decided that you can just tear down whatever tree you want?! What are you even making room for!?” She shouts red in the face and looks ready to smack the second eldest Wayne brother into next Tuesday.

“Hey, don’t get mad at me blondie. There’s an underground water supply that we’re going to run a pipe to for the bathroom,” Jason explains. “And the easiest place to access it is under this tree. Maybe that’s why the thing was so big.”

“There are other ways to dig a well other than explosives!”

“Go big or go home bitch.”

“EXCUSE ME-”

Dick quickly steps between the two young adults and shields his little brother from the ass-kicking he’s in the path of. “He doesn’t mean that!”

“That fuck I do-”

“Jason, no!” He barks before looking back at Kara. “We are so sorry about that Kara. We should have asked each other what the plans were before taking any action.”

The blonde calms down at the man’s reassurance and crosses her arms defiantly but still glares at the two. “You should have!”

“You should have talked to us about picking a tree before we even got here! What gave you the right?”

“JASON!”

“What gives me the right?! Why I otta-”

Jon decides that now would be a great time to look away from the fight that’s about to take place and turns around to look for his friend. It doesn’t take long to locate Damian as he’s being held by the arm by his sister who is just glaring at his Aunt Lana. His aunt is just peacefully sawing some of the wood they brought with Pa Kent, so Jon doesn’t really see the need to glare at her. The boy stands next to the two looking in the same direction for a moment before looking at his captive friend.

“So… What are you doing?” Jon asks as he tests getting the other boy out of Cassandra’s iron grip with little success. 

She grunts angrily as she points to the red-haired woman as if that would explain all of her issues but the boy doesn’t understand a single bit. Damian sighs and replies for the teenage girl, “She’s mad because your family won’t let her help with any of the heavy liftings.”

“Why not?”

“Honestly I do not know. Though it may have to do with the fact that she’s young and has never done construction before.” 

Cassandra grows at the words and spits out, “I am strong. I can do simple thing. I am not fragile teenage girl.”

Seeing that the Asian girl is not going to move anytime soon from brooding on her spot he asks, “Cass, can Dami and I go play?”

She glances down at Jon and gives him a brief smile as she let’s go of her youngest brother’s arm before resuming her previous activity. Damian rubs his bruising upper arm as Jon leads them to the empty picnic blanket where there were still some cookies left. Jon kneels down and opens his grandma’s basket to hand Damian one. The boy stares at the cookie for a few seconds like Jon notices he does with all of his meals before putting it in his mouth. The boy shrugs in satisfaction as he continues to eat the rest of it as he sits down next to Jon. Jon feels like he’s getting better at understanding Damian because he immediately recognizes it as him liking something a lot. 

While eating the leftover cookies Jon asks, “Why what’s with all of the stuff you brought?”

“I didn’t bring anything; It was everyone else’s idea.” Damian grunts glaring at nothing in particular.

“What do you mean?”

“I was talking to Pennyworth about procuring some research for the treehouse after our last correspondence but Jason already told Father. Father discussed setting up a security system with Drake, Drake told Cain, Cain told Grayson, and the next thing I know I’m being shoved into the Family helicopter with schematics and materials I had no say in.” The older boy explains taking a violent bite out of the oatmeal cookie he’s holding. “I don’t know why everyone is so enamored by the concept of our secret base since they all have their own.”

“Yeah… My family did the same thing. They didn’t even let me pick a tree!” Jon whines flopping his back onto the ground.

“That is the least of our worries Jonathan. Father brought that hussy with him and I was forced to spend four hours in a helicopter with them flirting!” 

“Ew.” Jon doesn’t know what a hussy is but he does know what flirting means and it’s gross. 

“I know!” Damian agrees, grabbing the last cookie from the basket and furiously shoving it into his mouth. 

“I thought this was going to be fun but it doesn’t feel fun.” The younger boy says with a dramatic sigh. “I thought building a treehouse would be fun like how making the costumes were fun, but everyone looks stressed or angry.” To emphasize his point he gestures to his Dad and Bruce Wayne who, while not screaming at each other is obviously having a tense argument while Tim is working on the security cameras behind his father. Then he points at Jason and Kara who are indeed screaming at each other while Dick does his best to mediate. “See?”

Damian stares at his family up in arms at the Kents for the most part with indifference and tells Jon, “The fight will not last all day. Father and the Alien also fought when we were buying materials for our uniforms and they got over it after some time. There is no reason this should be any different.”

Jon thinks about it for a second, the gears in his brain working their hardest to process the information before he nods his head sternly in agreement. “You’re right Dami.”

“I know I am.”

“So what should we do? I don’t wanna do nothing or walk into another fight, but I still want to help.”

“Let’s go see what we can do,” Damian says standing up. “There has to be something.”

Jon follows the older boy’s lead and keeps his eyes open for something to help with when the two stumble upon Lois and Selina talking quietly underneath a tree in a secluded area. Jon stops to see if they were working on anything he could help with and catches part of their conversation.

“You shouldn’t even be here.” He hears his mother whisper to the other woman. “After what you did to Bruce what makes you think you can waltz up to a family event like this?”

“Honey,” Selina purrs(?) in a condescending way, “That’s none of your business. What happens between Bruce and me is our business. He doesn’t hold anything against me and neither should you.”

“You left him at the altar! You didn’t see him you selfish bitch and you come back like nothing happens when you hear he has a new kid?”

“I have shared rights to all of the little birds ever since Robin first took to the skies. That’s not going to change now. Maybe you should keep to yourself and your own relationship issues.”

“What issues?”

“I didn’t mean anything by it.”

Before Jon could comprehend what he just heard, though it wouldn’t have been much anyways, Damian nearly tackles the other out of the way and in the opposite direction. He uses his hands to cover the child’s ears as he tells him to ignore them. He doesn’t understand why because it sounds like they were just talking but it did seem tense so he just complies with the order. Maybe the next group will be better to be around.

Alferd and Ma kent were standing next to the helicopter sharing a cup of tea and some cookies the man brought while having a pleasant conversation. Ace was lying calmly in the grass and occasionally being fed a cookie by either of the two. It doesn’t seem like they were working on anything treehouse related but that hardly matters. 

The elderly pair see the children approach and wave to them, Alfred holding out a tin of sweets for them to take. The cookies look nothing like the ones Ma Kent made and are significantly smaller but have fancy shapes and colors. Jon immediately puts one in his mouth and his eyes go wide with joy. 

“These are really good!” He compliments taking another and biting into the crunchy sugar. 

Damian takes one too and just grunts in response. This reaction is apparently shocking to the elderly man as his smile falters somewhat. He looks at the cookie unfinished in the boy’s hand and asks, “Is something not to your liking master Damian?”

The boy shakes his head as he finishes the treat. “The pastry is fine as usual Pennyworth.”

“Then why the cold shoulder young sir?”

“Jonathan has recently fed me a different cookie and after that, this just doesn’t compare.”

Ma Kent, seeing what was happening quickly tries to calm down the man. “Oh, that must be my fault. I baked some chewy oatmeal sugar cookies and the taste tends to stay on the tongue for a bit. Little Dami-”

“Don’t call me that.”

“Must have eaten some. Your cookies are fine Alfred, they probably don’t pair well with mine.” She reassures.

The butler takes a deep breath and nods his head in agreement, “No, no, you don’t have to spare my feelings, Martha. Your cookies are indeed superior.”

“Oh, you charmer.” Ma Kent giggles and pushes him lightly on the chest of his black polo. 

“Don’t worry Mr. Pennyworth, I like your cookies better than Ma’s!” Jon reassures in the same pleasant tone as his Grandma before taking another cookie. 

And then the world stopped.

The group of four is practically frozen as the atmosphere around them grows cold and the color disappears from Martha Kent’s face as she stares at her only grandbaby. She still keeps her warm smile, now a bit strained, as she asks her beautiful grandson, “What do you mean Jon?”

“I like all cookies but your cookies are chewy and sometimes hard to swallow. Mr. Pennyworth’s cookies are crunchy but really buttery! It’s like it’s melting in my mouth!” Jon explains finishing off the tin with a bright grin, not realizing the armageddon he just unleashed unto the world.

Alfred lets out a joyous chuckle as he pats the grey-haired woman on the shoulder. “Don’t worry, wasn’t it you who said the taste of your cookies ‘stay on your tongue?’ Maybe it just made my biscuits taste better to you Jonathan here?”

“Why yes, of course.” Martha sighs as she composes herself. Her eyes glance to the german shepherd then back at the children. “Would you kids be kind enough to walk Ace around? He must be awfully bored just sitting here doing nothing.”

The children, feeling sympathetic towards the canine, gladly take him out to walk around the clearing and making sure not to stray too far into the forest. Damian is surprisingly good with animals as Jon watches him walk ace around and give him praises. He even goes and scratches the pooch behind the ears and the stoic dog smiles!

Jon tries to do the same thing only to get no reaction from him. “How come you can make Ace wags his tail for you but not me?”

“Ace is a smart creature and I am an expert in animal care,” Damian explains petting the dog’s head. “Another skill I have mastered.”

“Is it because you have a dragon?” Jon asks as he recalls the tales of Goliath. “Come to think of it, you were also really good with Krypto last time you were at my house.”

“Animals have a natural ability to be a good judge of character and my character is excellent.” 

“And your ego is huge.” The boy mutters under his breath. “Maybe we should head back. Being on dog-walking duty is fun and all but I still want to build a treehouse.”

“Just a bit longer; Ace doesn’t appear to be done yet,” Damian says as Ace rolls around on the grass. “This might take a while.”

“I wish Krypto was here. Maybe they would get along with and be friends, like us!”

“... Sure they can.”

“I don’t like how long that took you to say,” Jon remarks unpleased. “We are friends, right?”

Green eyes glance at him from the side but the boy doesn’t face Jon as he and appears to be aloof to the question. “If that’s what you want to call this.”

“Daaaammmiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii!” The younger boy groans throwing his head back in frustration. “You said that you’d try!”

“-Tt- I haven’t I been trying?” Damian snarls back with a harsh hiss through his teeth. “I’ve been going along with your imbecilic ideas, skipped pages of my master plan to sedate your stupidity, have not enacted any physical violence against you, and I let you get away with calling me that annoying bastardization of my given name! In what way have I not been trying!?”

Blue eyes glare back at the boy before backing down and exhaling gruffly through his nose. “Sorry, you have been trying,” Jon states reverting to a more tranquil expression. “I’m just not used to being friends with someone who had to learn what how to be one.” 

“Are you saying that I’m lacking?” The older boy almost growls causing Ace to be at attention. 

“Dami- No, Damian. Sorry. Damian, of course, you’re not ‘lacking’ or whatever you wanna call not being perfect at friendship.” He explains with a sigh.

“Are you being making fun of me, Kent?”

“What- NO!” Jon shouts aghast at the accusation.”I’m apologizing to you.”

“Your apologies need some work like your grammar.”

“Damian.”

“Fine, fine. Apology accepted.” He declares scratching the german shepherd behind the ears to take him out of his alert state. “But let it be known to you that I am not deficient in any aspect of being. I have achieved a perfect balance of myself physically, mentally, intellectually, and emotionally. If you consider me to be inefficient in anything you should reevaluate your perspective of the world.”

“Yeah, sure.” Jon agrees while not understanding the meaning of the words; a habit he’s picked up after being around Damian. “Only as long as you’re not a complete jerk to me.” He adds as he walks back to the clearing. The boy feels bad because he feels like he accidentally made things tense between them when he was trying to avoid everyone else that was tense. There is only one way to fix this and get everything back to normal:

Hugs.

So with a large swooping motion, Jon leaps up with his arms stretched out wide and attempts to entrap the taller boy in a tight embrace. His efforts are swiftly reciprocated by a foot to his chest that sends him flying into the nearest tree. Jon screams out of reflex as his spine hits the hard textured bark of the wood and he comes crashing to the grass beneath him, bouncing against the dirt like a basketball. He spits out some grass he got in his teeth during the landing and moves his neck up puffing his cheeks in anger as he looks at the boy who kicked him.

“Damian, what the heck?! I was trying to hug you!”

“Jonathan, when have I ever positively reciprocated to any physical contact of any sort?”

Jon opens his mouth to name some examples but can’t come up with any. He’s either violent or begrudgingly accepts it. “Huh… That does make sense. You need to work on that; hugs are supposed to make you feel better.”

“I can assure you that they don’t work and it’s all in your head.” He states before walking off with Ace, not waiting for Jon to recover. He disappears out of the woods in the direction of the clearing where watery blue eyes can’t follow him anymore.

The boy lifts himself up using his elbows sad that he’s just being left behind and that Damian rarely waits for him when pressure forces him back onto the ground. The child cranes his neck around to see what is holding him down to be met with a lick to the face. “Krypto!” Jon cheers turning the rest of his body over under the large lab to give him a big hug. “Krypto why are you here? Was it your super hearing? Did you miss me!?”

The white dog barks with a smile before licking the boy’s face again. Jon laughs as he gets slobber all over himself and playfully pushes the dog’s face away. “I dunno dog speak but I think that means you miss me!” After a few more affectionate licks the seven-year-old was finally able to get the large dog off of him. “At least you like hugs Krypto.” Jon sighs on his knees to give the dog one last tight hug before he walks back to the clearing with the super dog in tow. 

“I haven’t really been trying that hard to get involved as I want to be but everyone just looked so tense.”

“ARF!”

“You’re right Krypto. Everyone is probably done feeling weird about each other by now so maybe I can finally help get some work done on the treehouse! It would be rude to have everyone do everything for me.”

“ARF!”

“I dunno what I wanna do, but what I’ll tell you when I find out! You can help too, Krypto!”

“ARF!”

“That one was extra loud. You must be really excited- Is that smoke?” Jon looks up at a dark cloud in the sky that seems to have originated from the clearing. 

The boy runs in a panic to the plume and is met with a burning wooden structure that his father and aunt were in the process of putting out but flying around it at high speeds to suffocate it. At the other end of the clearing was what looked to be a crushed metal contraption that Kara was in the process of stomping down further into the ground while using a lot of bad words. Words that Jonathan still doesn’t know the meaning of and some new words that just sound bad.

A few feet away Damian and Ace look on at the chaos with mild interest while even further away everyone has broken into screaming at another. They’re all talking so loud and speaking at the same time that Jon can’t follow even the tiniest bit. Jon moves over to the older boy and asks “Hey Damian, what happened?”

“Well, I wasn’t here to experience it in the same way you weren’t but it’s easy enough for me to decide what happened here.” The boy says holding his chin in contemplation. He studies the setting before him for a moment then goes on to state what his brief investigation has led him to believe. “It would appear that while we were not paying attention the families have split into factions to build separate treehouses after deducing that they couldn’t work together.”

Jon gasps in horror, covering his mouth at the destruction before him. “But then what happened?! We were gone for only, like, half an hour in those woods walking Ace!”

“This part gets a bit more tricky to pinpoint an accurate timeline but the events that happened remain the same. Either during the process one of my father’s incompetent wards set fire to your family’s structure and in retaliation, Supergirl took rightful revenge on my father’s efforts, or the reverse happened.”

“This is crazy! Why did they even split up in the first place?!”

“The tension finally broke. Relations grow weak then the fine line that is tension finally snaps and all alliances that you’ve once held dear shatter leaving everyone vulnerable.” The boy elaborates as he watches his second eldest brother tackle the female Kryptonian off the remains of the treehouse. “There must have already been some underlying strain between everyone that we were unaware of and this was just the proverbial straw that broke the camel’s back.”

“B-but that can’t be!” Jon argues wracking his brain for any signs that he missed. Sadly he’s too young and inexperienced to focus on such things to a point he wouldn’t have noticed until it became too late like it is now. “Superman and Batman are super best friends! There’s no way that they would risk that over a dumb treehouse! They were fine earlier! You said they would get over it, Damian!”

“I’m allowed to have incorrect a hypothesis Jonathan.” Damian sighs as he watches Lois Lane backhand Selina Kyle, something the boy would proudly applaud if it wasn’t in such horrendous form. Really, the woman should have put some more back into the attack if she really wanted to do some damage. “And it makes sense that you have such a naive outlook on the relationship between the two greatest heroes on the planet. You are Superman’s only child, a treasure to him like no other. A being that is a genetic nightmare to a point that the fact you exist is a miracle. There is only one of you on the known planet and you were given the most mediocre of childhoods. Why do you think that is?”

“W-what? What’s wrong with my childhood?” Jon asks but he really doesn’t want to hear more. Curse his curiosity. 

“Jonathan, you’re clearly unstable and highly emotional. Even your mental state is something that is easily compromised. In the weeks I have known you, the four times that I see you in person, you have had temporary delusional blackouts at almost every single one. What would happen to you if you were put under an extreme amount of emotional pressure? They’ve been obviously trying to shield you from anything of the sort by hiding you away from the world until now.”

“Th-that’s not true! Mom and Dad just wanted me to have a normal life-”

Damian laughs at that statement. It’s feral, raw, and obviously forced to make Jon feel like a fool. “Oh Jonathan, you never cease to amaze me; you really are naive as you look. You were never going to have a normal life. Honestly, if I had a say in it you would have had to go through training to hone your emotions to prepare for the inevitability of your powers growing in. Obviously that would never have happened, seeing as I’m only three years older but that hardly matters now. Maybe that’s why Superman told you so early because he regrets not preparing you earlier and is making it up to you now by giving you whatever you want. He only discovered that you wanted a treehouse two days ago and is already bending over backward for you.”

“I… No…”

“It doesn’t really matter now. What does matter is how everyone is going to come out of this with at least some semblance of civility.” He comments looking onwards as Superwoman lands only to be swept behind the knees by Cassandra Cain. “I’m surprised their farce lasted so long in front of us with minimal cracks in their masks.”

“So… Superman and Batman aren’t friends?” Jon questions, distraught.

“I wouldn’t go that far. They had to have liked each other enough to have been working together for almost twenty years.”

The two spend some time in silence watching the entropy unfold. Krypto and Ace jump into the fray when they see their owners being attacked much to the dismay of Jonathan. The child lets the information he’s been told settle into his mind the best he can but it quickly turns into screams about insecurities he didn’t even know he had. Was his entire life a lie?

Were all of his closest relationships a lie? Was everyone in Hamilton in on the secret?! Okay, that’s going a bit far. It wasn’t as if his best friend Kathy would hide the fact that he’s Superman’s son from him, that’s silly. What is Jon going to conjure in his head next? That everyone in Hamilton is an alien hellbent on infiltrating his life? That would be silly.

Why did Jon come up with such a specific example?

Why is his vision blurring?

Oh, that’s right, blackouts. Damian said he had those.

Nonononono! NO!

Jon will not blackout again! He will not! He knows what’s happening to him right now and refuses to prove Damian right. He must think about something else, he must stop the blackout! Damian, that’s it- actually wait, that’s a bad idea. Jon’s mad at Damian right now, at least he thinks he is. Yep, Damian was definitely a bad idea and not just a topic to think about. Why does he even try to be friends with him again? He only wants to use him because he’s Superman’s son; Jon’s not stupid, he knows that’s the truth. Damian’s only using him. He’s only going through the motions of trying being his friend so Jon will keep going along with him. Well it’s a good thing Damian is so bad at friendship or else this would hurt more. Who is Jon kidding, he knew all along and it still hurts terribly.

Was this what his dad was trying to protect him from; people who will use him? People who want to be his friend for selfish reasons? People with superpowers don’t have friends and this is probably the reason why.

While Jonathan’s world was mentally collapsing around him tears soundlessly begun to fall from his face. Damian looks on shocked for many reasons; one of which was because of the fact the boy is a silent crier. The small boy was always so loud even when he wasn’t saying anything. It’s baffling that someone so happy would master the art of crying without a sound, something some of the assassins he trained haven’t mastered. Even though that’s an accomplishment Damian can’t very well have Jon in this mental state. 

Not only because it’s most likely his fault that the boy is like this now, but also because it’s… wrong. Damian hasn’t known Jonathan Samuel Kent for very long but he knows that sight of tears on his face is wrong. This is the same imbecile that laughed when he impaled a makeshift spear into his gut, the kid who makes excuses for him when he says something crass, the child who tries to involve him in stupid rituals thinking it would please him, and the boy who does not cry. 

Damian hates to admit this but he’s never had to deal with tears; that was beaten out of him long ago to a point Damian doesn’t remember what crying feels like. He really should have held his tongue better. That was the one thing his wonderful mother wasn’t able to teach him and the reason she left him behind. He’s always had terrible control over what he says and talks out of line. Oh, he could practically hear her now:

“Damian, your opinion isn’t important to the mission.”

“Damian, you’re disappointing me.”

“Damian, still your lips.”

Usually, those comments would be followed by several lashes of a whip as the boy would then be locked in solitary to reflect on what he did wrong. He has become so complacent in father’s home that he has let his training slip to the point he’s forgotten the most basic of taught principles. He needs to correct his mistake immediately.

“Jonathan, stop crying.” He spits out in a cold emotionless tone. 

By doing the wrong thing. The child’s tears begin to flow more freely but still quietly confusing Damian greatly. He doesn’t understand. He doesn’t understand because when his mother uses that tone with him Damian he immediately stops whatever is upsetting her. Green eyes examine the boy with puffy eyes and red nose dripping snot with disgust. How can he make him feel better? That’s when it hit him; he has to use the means Jonathan has been so furiously trying to instill in him. Damian is going to hate this so much, he already knows it. 

But first, he really must get rid of this atrocious background noise because it’s not going to help him in his plans. He grabs Jonathan’s hand and easily drags him closer to the chaos that is their families and takes a few words from the Todd dictionary of getting things done in a quick, efficient, and crude manner. He takes in a deep breath and cups his free hand around his mouth to amplify his words. He knows that those with superhearing are going to be able to hear him but he has to make sure that his family will as well, especially over all those explosions.

“EVERYBODY JUST FUCKING STOP IT ALREADY!” Damian screams at the top of his lungs.

The reactions are not immediate as he would have liked it to be but it still works all the same. It starts slowly with the ones with powers hearing him first and turning his direction to see that he’s holding a tearful Jon’s hand. That gets them to stop rather quickly causing a chain reaction of sorts of their opponent stopping to look in his direction. Eventually, everyone stops to look at him and he continues with his plan.

“WE DON’T NEED YOUR HELP IF YOU CAN’T EVEN CONTROL YOURSELVES LONG ENOUGH TO BREAK INTO SENSELESS AND PETTY SQUABBLES! Right, Jon?” 

Jon responds with soft incomprehensible blubbering before quitting completely. Good, Damian was riding on the expectation that the boy wouldn’t be able to authenticate his story in his current state. 

“SEE! SO PACK UP ALL OF THIS TRASH AND LEAVE THE WORK TO THE PEOPLE WHO AREN’T TRYING TO EVISRATE ONE ANOTHER!” 

The irony of Damian’s words was not lost on him but he doesn’t dwell on it for longs as he turns around and walks into the forest until he reaches an area with plenty of cover next to a small brook. He shoves the still crying boy on the cold grass next to the running water and sits down next to him as Jon does his best to readjust himself. Damian is beginning to wonder if an excess of bodily fluids is a superpower as the tears show no sign of letting up anytime soon. He closes his eyes and braces himself for the next action he’s about to take.

He turns his upper body to face the child, who has shrunken himself in a ball with his knees to his chest, and spread his own arms wide to envelop Jonathan in one of those infuriating hugs. He holds the boy tightly, tight enough that if Jon was a normal boy his spine would crack, against himself and Damian can 1000% confirm that he hates every second of it. It’s constricting, uncomfortable warm, he is getting repulsive germ-filled fluids all over his neatly pressed green t-shirt, and physical contact of this nature makes his skin crawl. If he could he would never do this again.

But it makes Jon feel better. For some unknown reason, it manages to reduce the waterworks coming out of the child. It wasn’t the magical cure he expected like how Jonathan keeps acting like hugs are but it’s better than before. Damian doesn’t know how long he has to keep it up and realizes that’s he’s probably going to be stuck like this for a while when Jon’s arms wrap around him tightly. When he feels that that boy has gotten past the worse of his outburst he tries to put some distance between them to no avail as Jonatha’s grip is strong. If Damian puts a bit more effort into breaking contact he could easily escape but he knows it wouldn’t be a good idea. He decides to settle in their current position to talk about… feelings. Ew.

“Jonathan, I would like to recant my last statements.”

Jon opens his mouth to say something but all that comes is incomprehensible noises. “I- Huh… MMMnnnnMMMMMMrrhhg-”

“Talking doesn’t really work for you at the moment so I’m just going to keep speaking.” The older boy states after hearing that poor attempt at communication. “I’m not sorry for what I said. I’m not going to apologize for what I believe is true.”

“Y-you’re really ba-bad at th-thiii- thissss...” The child stammers out shakily.

“I know, I’m not one to exercise apologies. That’s not to say that I’m not sorry for anything; in fact, I know I failed in taking account of your emotions when I was saying all that stuff earlier. I even added some insults in there because I knew it would hurt you. I do regret hurting you for honestly no other reason than for the sake of it.”

“Y-you’re just sssssaying that because I’m invincible and you want to use me. You don’t believe in friendship, or relationships, or anything happy!”

“I’m not just saying this, I just… Maybe I’m… Urrrgh. I’ve never been in any sort of relationship where someone wasn’t expecting anything in return so the fact that you want to create bonds with people because you want to and nothing else is probably the most complex thing about you. Yet you think that’s the norm. You believe that people can just form partnerships and alliances without expecting anything of value is what everyone does. You believe that your parents want you to be happy only because they love you. You believe that our fathers see each other outside of work because they genuinely enjoy each other’s company. I don’t know how to perceive a bond that doesn’t rely on ulterior motives.”

“I… I kind of expected that from and I was okay with that but…” Jon begins to say but pauses trying to think of the words to best describe his feelings. “I… I think you’re right. Not about everything but I don’t… I can’t believe that everyone can be friends just because they want to be anymore. I don’t totally think that you’re completely right but relationships are more… Hard.”

“Complicated.”

“Yeah, that’s a better word. Relationships are complicated. I’ve been forcing this friendship because I genuinely want to be friends with you and you’ve been doing the same thing because you expect something from me. I kind of gave you that idea in the first place. But I was thinking that way about all the people in my life if they just wanted something from me, and I realize that they do but that they also love me. That’s going to be the same for me from now on too. I’m going to have to expect secrecy from all my friends from now on or else I have to push myself away from them and that… that’s sad.” Jon explains wiping his tears the shoulder his face is pressed against. 

“It is,” Damian affirms holding Jon tighter in his arms. “I… It would be so much easier if you lived in a world no one expects anything from you.”

“Or where people didn’t have to protect me from stuff. Where they didn’t have to hide anything from me only to have it blow up later. That they didn’t feel like they had to hold everything in until it became too much just so I wouldn’t know everything wasn’t okay.”

The older boy lets out a small chuckle at Jon’s wish, moving one of his hands from the boy’s upper back into the rats’ nest he likes to call hair. “I don’t think that’s going to change anytime soon.”

“It’s usually like that on TV. Everyone learns something and then moves on right away.”

“Well, your television shows are garbage.”

“Hey!” Jon cries and pushes Damian in the chest gaily with mock offense. 

“I’m not wrong!” Damian laughs back lightly and releases Jonathan from his hug. “Grayson tried to get me to watch some atrocious child programing and if I had one wish it would be to get that hour of my life back!”

“Really? That’s what you would wish for and not… I dunno a billion dollars?” Jon asks.

Green eyes roll so far into the back of his head he’s surprised that the orbs didn’t get stuck in his skull. “Jonathan, my father is the richest person in the country.”

“Oh yeah.”

“Though I might wish for a functioning secret base instead of the destroyed burnt mass that awaits us.”

“I almost forgot about that. Hey, how did you get everyone to stop fighting?”

Damian shrugs and grabs a loose thin tree branch next to him. “I made it seem like you were more upset by their fighting than the very concept of friendship crumbling around you.”

“I’m upset by both,” Jon says with a sigh. “I thought everyone was getting along so well but they only act like that because of us. I wouldn’t be mad if they’d just tell me they had problems with each other.”

“Oh really now? You wouldn’t try to beg them to be friends for some convoluted reason?”

“...”

“And my point is proven.” The older boy begins to draw a simple tree in the damp dirt in front of them with the stick before looking back at Jon. “Jonathan, would you still be my friend even though I clearly expect something from you?”

The boy wipes the remains of his runny nose on his flannel shirt as he stares back at Damian. “Of course. Plus I’ve been expecting something back this whole time. It’s really selfish of me to say that I wasn’t this entire time when I was.”

“And what would that be?”

“I’ve been expecting you to act like someone you aren’t. You’re older than me, you know big words even some adults don’t know, you’re the son of Batman, never played with other kids, yet I’m expecting you to act like all my other friends and that’s not fair to you. You’re not just going to magically like playing games or be nice because everyone else is like that.” Jonathan explains as he watches the creek run by them. “It wasn’t fair of me to want that from you.”

“I don’t think it’s unfair,” Damian says. “We were just had different expectations of what this partnership was. I thought we talked it over and clarified what we have with each other already, but instead, we just stated terms to a contract we didn’t understand.”

“Dude. Metaphors aren’t really my thing.”

“Instead of actually compromising with each other and coming to a conclusion about what our relationship really is we just asserted what we wanted from one another. We were setting boundaries and rules while sticking with the concepts we are already aware of. Neither of us tried changing the definition of what we already know.”

“I’m still confused but I think I get it,” Jon conveys while he looks at the dirt-tree Damian is drawing. “So what do we do now?”

“I still want to be partners.”

“I still wanna be friends.”

“And how do we do that?” Damian asks Jon with a sense of defeat.

Blue eyes glance at him from the side but don’t leave their spot on the dirt. “I dunno, I never had to ask myself how to be friends with someone.”

“What do friends do?”

“Besides hang out they just… They care for each other. They have each others’ backs. They have fun together...” Jon lists having a difficult time describing what friendship is. 

The older boy sighs as he continuously draws the tree. “That’s not different than what partnership is.”

“Like what you had with Goliath?”

“No, like with my mother,” Damian admits with a morbid frown. “Goliath is also my partner but he’s in thrall to me; I’m his leader. Partners are supposed to be equals on the field. Even though my mother has authority she would always take into account my words when it comes to combat. She could herself vulnerable when fighting because she knew I would be there to cover for her and I the same. Sometimes we would hunt for treasure and she would make sure that I would get half to be fair to me…” Damian trails off as if remembering something important but shakes his head rapidly so he wouldn’t have to dwell on it. “I also care for her deeply but I know that she always wanted something from me. I was chosen to be the heir to the Demon’s head and whatever I did she expected something in return. Though I never told anyone this, I did wish that she would just… That she could just love me without any strings attached.”

Jon doesn’t know how to replay to that last confession so he doesn’t. He chooses to comment on something less personal because he knows how hard it is for the youngest son of the Wayne to admit something so personal. Heck, they don’t really know too much about each other but they are making progress. “So we both have an idea of what we want and it’s not too different, so let’s do it! Let’s break it down even further! If we want this to work we need to be on the same page or whatever. We need to have trust-”

“Unconditional trust.” Damian insists.

“We need unconditional trust, love, and fun!”

“I get the first and third points as trust is for partnership and fun is for friendship but why love?”

Jon smiles and responds, “There are all kinds of love. I’m not talking about the icky love girls and old people always talk about but the love where people care for each other. My mom explained it to me once but I’m gonna be honest I wasn’t really paying attention. But I think I’m right when I use that word. If we’re going to be both friends and partners we need to also be lovers!”

Damian covers Jonathan’s mouth with his hand as he groans loudly. “Jonathan, you are definitely using that word wrong and if you don’t correct yourself now it will cause problems.”

“I don’t think I’m using the word love wrong.”

“No, the word ‘lover’. That has an entirely different meaning than the one you’re trying to use.”

“Then what’s the right word for more than just friends but that’s not gross?”

Damian thinks for a moment before admitting, “I don’t think they have a word for that in your language. I understand what you’re trying to say at last so we can forgo the labels for the time being.”

“Okay, does that mean you’ll stop holding back around me?” Jon asks finding his own stick nearby to draw next to Damian.

“Jonathan, if I do that then I will most likely hit you or say something that will make you cry again. I do not want to have to go through this again.” He explains.

“Hey, this is about trust and I’m trusting you not to say anything to make me cry again. Plus you can’t hurt me anyway, I’m invincible remember?” Jon retorts with a hollow chuckle. “I don’t like it when people try to hurt me but I’m going to have to get used to it if I want to be a superhero. Maybe you could give me a warning or something?”

“You’re weird.”

“I thought I was simple.”

“You’re weird and simple-minded.” Damian declares with a hilarious amount of finality. “Does this mean I won’t be expected to hold my tongue around you and you’ll be more receptive to my plans instead of going off on whatever catches your fancy of the week?”

“It means that we’ll make an effort and that will mean a lot of compromises on both sides. Like, a lot a lot. But we’ll also have to be comfortable with each other.”

“All of this is so contradictory.”

“I didn’t make the rules of friendship or partnership!”

“We can hash this out later. For now, we should focus on what we’re going to do about this stupid base.” Damian states as he taps his stick on the picture of the tree. “Seeing as the partnership between Superman and Batman has devolved into useless fistfighting we’ll go with my original plan.”

“Yeah, that was weird.”

“Probably because of their last JLA. I read the report and there was some infighting between the two that obviously wasn’t resolved.”

“You get to read JLA stuff?”

“Only partially before that infuriating Drake went and took them from me.” He hisses stabbing the stick into the ground. “So I was thinking…”

Damian begins to explain the basics of his plans to Jon making sure to repeat certain details he thinks the boy will get stuck on while Jonathan himself added his own ideas. The older boy made it a point to enunciate certain words such as the design aspect, building materials, and whatever Jon wanted in an odd over-exaggerated way. They took turns drawing their ideas and reworking them into the dirt, metaphorically and literally, until the sun began to set. The two stand up and look around them with the younger boy wondering why haven’t his parents come looking for him. He’s grateful that they weren’t there to interrupt their conversation it’s odd that they didn’t come running after him after seeing him cry. 

Hearing his concern Damian smirks at the child and just leads him back to the clearing without saying anything. When they get there he expected to see everyone still arguing or at least some of the wreckage still littered about but that’s not what he saw at all. Everything was cleaned up and nothing of the treehouses remains but in their wake was something else. 

In front of Jon’s eyes were two normal treehouses connected by a wooden rope bridge atop large oaks. Everyone is standing beneath them working on what seems to be the last few touches before it could be completed. Superman and Batman were doing some of the wirings, Dick and Kara were screwing in the door, Lois and Selina were painting the latter, Superwoman, Pa Kent, and Cassandra were bringing stuff inside from the helicopter, and everyone else setting up some tables for dinner. 

Jon is… Jon is extremely confused. Excited sure, but mostly confused. Damian takes the hand not holding Jon’s and shoves it painfully into his own ear to pull out what looks like a tiny black earbud. He pulls the boy to the tables where Jason was putting down a plate of hotdogs from the grill onto the plastic top and hands the older man the black bud. Jason takes off an oven mitt to grab the device and shove it into his pocket before acting as if nothing happened. “You remember the deal?” The male with the white streak in his hair asks untying his apron.

“Of course, and I shall act accordingly,” Damian replies with his signature glare.

With a firm nod, the man walks over to the treehouse as the two follow him to the treehouse wordlessly. It’s not large by any means or overly extravagant but it’s exactly what he imagined when he things of a treehouse; Just a simple wooden box with a door. Kara sees them approach and pokes her head inside the house to call out the two men inside. Superman is the first to land in front of them, with Batman quickly jumping down behind him. Clark fixes his glasses as he lands and kneels down to meet his son’s eyes. 

“Jon, Sport, I’m sorry you had to see that side of us. We never meant for things to go that far or to make you upset in any way. And I apologize to you too Damian. We didn’t set the best examples today.” Jon’s father apologies holding his son’s shoulder. 

Bruce meanwhiles just stares down at his child and give him an affirmative nod and an almost quiet grunt. Damian looks up at his father and grunts back while Dick groans from above them. “Oh my God B, he’s never going to open up if you keep enabling him to speak in Batman!”

“He’s not gonna open up to you Dick-face cause I just won more big brother points than you! HA!” Jason shouts pointing at his little brother.

“What!? But he hates you, Jay!”

“He does but I just earned 100 big brother points!”

“You don’t care even about big brother points!” The older man shouts down distraught, almost causing himself to fall down from the top of the tree. 

“But you do and that’s all that matter!” Jason replies before turning back on his heel back to the grill where Alfred was. 

“Jay! Jaybird! Jason come back! What did you do!?” Dick screams leaping off the treehouse to chase after his little brother. 

“Okaaaay?” Superman drawls out with a quirked brow before looking back at the kids. “I know I shouldn’t have but I eavesdropped on your conversation with Dami and-”

“You don’t get to call me that Alien.” 

“And we all decided to make the house you both wanted as we should have done in the first place. We were all so caught up in our own stuff that we didn’t even ask what you wanted.”

Jon nervously looks at Damian, fearing that his father heard their entire conversation, but the kid shakes his head in the negative to reassure him that their words were safe. The child looks back at his father and gives him a short but tight hug. Batman takes this time to cut in and start listing off amenities that the house contains but he didn’t really catch anything until he hears the word, “Teleporter” was uttered.

“Wait,” Jon yells breaking the hug between him and his father. “There’s a teleporter and we’re still out here!? Why didn’t you start with that!?” 

He immediately runs off and climbs the unfinished ladder to climb inside, ignoring all of the current dangers such as the lack of door or railing slow him down as he hops inside to look at the inside of his new base. He runs around the inside of the base he can already imagining all the stuff he’s going to fill it with! Below on the ground, Superman looks up at the treehouse then back at Damian and asks, “So, how does it look?”

“-Tt- It’s mediocre on the outside but I’m sure Father has improved the inside with everything required.” Damian declares crossing his arms.

Clark looks like he’s about to say something but Batman stops him with a hand on his shoulder. “That’s a high compliment coming from Damian.”

The man of steel laughs and stands back up with a smile letting the bit of rudeness brush off of him and merrily wonders aloud, “So are you just going to stand there, or are you going to head up inside?”

Damian is about to make another rude comment when Jon sticks his head out the window shouting out, “DAMI, COME ON! You gotta check out the Fortress of Attitude!”

Looking up at the younger boy in horror he immediately shouts back, “WE ARE NOT CALLING IT THAT!” before rushing inside at a breakneck pace.  
  


(Interior of the fortress after decorations are completed)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I'm not going to detail what everyone was fighting about behind the scenes. I gave some hints to some arguments but the rest will forever remain a mystery. I kept it that way because no one will tell Jon what was going on and he will never know. It's not important to the story and like in real life there are some things he'll never learn.
> 
> Some things of note I couldn't fit into the chapter:  
> -Tim was staying out of most of it like a good boi; only butting in when Batman needed assistance as a good Robin should.  
> -The helicopter ride between Selina, Bruce, and Damian was Bruce's attempt to get his son and girlfriend(?) to know each other. It went as well as you think it did.  
> -What is the DC timeline anymore? That's up for debate because this is obviously not the cannon universe and that's also a spoiler. What events took place in the past is all up in the air until I confirm it for this story.  
> -I just realized I never stated everyone's ages so I'll only state all the children's for now (Even though they're all mostly adults) only because I do not want to do more math: Dick (24), Kara (22), Jason (19), Cassandra (17), Tim (Fifteen), Kon-El (????????????????????????) (He's in the tags so you know he's gonna be here), Damian (10), and Jon (7).  
> -Edit: Also that bug in Damian's ear was so that Jason could tell Damian it Superman would listen in on him and Jon
> 
> Anyways, Thank You all so much for reading and I love you for clicking on this mess I'm calling a story! In the next chapter: Superhero training!


	8. Questions Without Answers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jonathan learns that he's not alone in more ways than one.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey Guys, this chapter wasn't supposed to be this long but it is. I have finals online this week due to the pandemic so I really wanted to get this chapter don early this week so I wouldn't have to worry about it. I'm also super conscious of being late with any work so because last week's chapter was a bit late I'm making up for it now!

Jonathan Samuel Kent never thought of his life as weird or amazing. Even though his dad is Superman it hasn’t drastically altered any experiences in his life. Sure, he made an unusual new friend, got to meet a bunch of heroes, and developed invincibility but he hasn’t felt that strong transformation in his soul that he should have after finding out he’s the son of the world’s greatest hero. Being an indestructible force is nothing to write home about since he was always a pretty resilient kid. All the heroes he met are significantly older than him and made it a point to not be heroes around him, so it wasn’t too much more than meeting some cool adults. The only thing to cause any genuine difference in his life is meeting Damian. Weird things always happen to him when he’s hanging out with the older dark-skinned boy.

Life suddenly had a bit more energy when Jon is together with Damian. His presence seems to make the world around him animated in a way that it wasn’t before. Stakes are higher, actions are taken, decisions are made, and goals are set when the older child is around. It’s so easy to get wrapped up in the overwhelming aura of Damian Al-Ghul Wayne that consequences become an afterthought. In the few weeks Jonathan has known Damian he has: crawled through the vents of Batman’s mansion, rolled a decorative wagon through the Batcave, played an extreme version of tag that ended in a food fight, created a costume, acquired a fort with a teleporter, and promised to fight crime against the wishes of his parents. Jon knows that things will only escalate from here on out now that the two have a quick way to visit each other meaning that they’ll see each other more often. 

This fact becomes clear to Jonathan two nights after the treehouse incident. The young Kent boy finished cleaning his room and brushing his teeth in time for bed. His first day of second grade is supposed to start in a week yet he hasn’t heard anything from his parents. Jon’s only been in school for two years at this point but he knows that his Mom should be asking if he’s ready or has finished his summer reading. Now that he thinks about it, they haven’t gone out to buy new school clothes like they always do. As the seven-year-old contemplates the cause of this abnormality from the comfort of his own Superman-themed bed his Superman night light suddenly goes out. The room is quickly enveloped by darkness before the boy could even blink causing his heart to go still. 

Jon is a brave little boy, he knows because his dad told him he was, who isn’t afraid of the dark. He only has the light in his wall so he wouldn’t bump into anything getting water or hitting a wall when he gets up early to do farm work. He’s just surprised that the Superman logo night light went off for no reason, that’s all. Right? He doesn’t have the time to justify his fear for very long when a hand shoots out from under his bed and over his mouth. His natural fight or flight instincts kick in as the child does his best to flail his arms in some sort of attempt to attack his kidnapper while simultaneously trying to bite the gloved leather hand on his mouth when he hears a familiar voice whisper in his ear. 

“Jonathan, quiet. You’ll alert Superman.” The intruder whispers, tightening the pressure on the indestructible boy’s face. “He might be in China but that doesn’t mean he can’t be listening.”

Blue eyes shift from their place on the ceiling to his right where a hooded silhouette stares at him, the only features being white glassy orbs. The hand is released from his lips and Jon immediately whisper shouts, “Dami what the heck!? How did you get in here? Why are you here? Why are you in costume?”

Even though Jon can’t see Damian’s eyes he can feel them rolling at him. “Jonathan, you don’t keep your window locked. No one in this God-forsaken town does.”

“Cause no one expects a break-in! Now I have to close my window at night so I won’t have to be scared awake.”

“You say that like it’s a bad thing.” The older boy in the Robin costume scoffs. “Anyways, I am here because we need to begin your training.”

“And you couldn’t just tell me that tomorrow at the Fortress of Attitude?” Jon asks as he sits up, wrapping his blanket around his head like a hood and around his body.

“Jonathan, I thought we discussed the naming of our base.”

“Yeah, we did. You call it boring names while I get to call it the Fortress of Attitude.”

Damian sighs and pinches the temples of his head and clicks his tongue in annoyance. “-Tt- It is imperative that you are prepared for anything. Your performance today has shown me you are ill-prepared for an attack since you cannot even escape an easy hold where you had all of the advantages. I didn’t even constrain any of your appendages, yet you failed to gain any leverage on me when you had the higher ground.”

Jon groans flopping onto his side with a muffled thump, never breaking eye contact with his friend. “Well excuse me for not being a master warrior or whatever.”

“You have been excused.”

“Uuurrrrrgggggghhhh!” The child groans into his soft pillow. “Dami, can we please do this tomorrow. It’s my bedtime and I have to wake up before 7 o’clock tomorrow to feed the chickens and help herd Kathy’s cows to the other pasture.”

“Fine, but next time locate the teleporter to somewhere more acceptable than the underside of a tractor in a filthy barn.” Damian grunts crossing his arms.

“Dad put the tractor over the teleporter so I wouldn’t use it without permission,” Jon explains before a thought comes into his mind. “Wait… How come your dad lets you use the teleporter at night?”

Damian scoffs at Jon again and stands up taller with pride. “As if I needed permission from anyone to do as I please. Besides, it’s not like they could catch me. I’ve been trained in the art of stealth by the world’s greatest- MMMMPH!?!”

Jon quickly raises his face from his pillow at the distressed noise to see another masked figure in his room holding Damian hostage from behind. The younger boy is about to scream for help when the man turns back on his nightlight, illuminating the room in a dim yellow to reveal their identity. It was a very haggard looking Robin with his hair askew in different directions with mud coating patches of his uniform struggling to hold down a thrashing Damian. 

“Mr. Robin, what are you doing here?” Jon asks in a hushed voice. “Why do you look like that?”

“Don’t mind me, we will be out of your hair.” The teen replies with a wince as his younger brother bites into his forearm. “Also, it would be easier if there wasn’t a tractor above the teleporter.”

“I… That’s kind of the point.”

Robin doesn’t reply to Superman’s son’s statement as he kneels onto the bed and opens the window with Damian still trying to maul him to death. He gives the boy a polite smile and wave before leaping out head first towards the ground. In shock, the boy scrambles out of his blanket to lean out the window expecting to see the two males hit the ground only to find nothing; not even an imprint of where the bodies hit the ground.

Weird.

The next day after Jon’s morning chores he puts on his comfy costume, packs his bag of snacks, and waits for his mom to move the tractor so that he can use the teleporter. When the woman turns off the vehicle she hops off and checks that it is ready for his first playdate without his parents watching. Apparently, they still need to be looked over but one of Damian’s siblings will be babysitting him. He hopes it’s Cassandra because the last time she looked over Jon he gotta eat lots of cake. 

The seven-year-old holds the strap of his novelty Superman backpack tightly as blue light envelopes him, replacing the image he sees of his mother waving at him with the sight of the inside of his clubhouse. Jon runs over the shakey rope bridge and opens his bag to put all of his food and drinks into the mini-fridge. He takes out a glass of milk Kathy’s grandfather gave him as a reward for helping him herd the cattle and downs the entirety of the refreshing drink before heading outside where he hears Damian and someone else talking. 

Opening the door he can see that Damian is not talking to just one person, but two people. Dick Grayson, dressed in a blue athletic t-shirt and gym shorts, and Jason Todd, dressed in a red sleeveless hoodie and black cargo shorts, having a very heated argument with Damian. Jon rushes down the ladder to join the conversation and find out what all the commotion is about. He doesn’t even have to guess because when he gets closer he can clearly see his friend holding a duffle bag filled to the brim with weapons of all kinds; he even sees the knife he broke from their first meeting. 

“Hi Dami-”

“Superboy, I am in uniform and you will address me appropriately.” Damian interrupts, not even facing the approaching boy. 

“Oh, right. Hi Robin, Hi Dick, Hi Jason!” The boy corrects as he stands next to the other child. The two men greet him back before returning to their previous conversation.

“Okay, first off, you are not going to be Robin.” The older brother states firmly pointing at Damian’s attire. “This is just for fun and nothing else. Secondly, you cannot keep bringing weapons with you everywhere. I just finished taking them off the wall of the treehouse! How do you keep getting more?”

The young Wayne humphs at the question saying, “That is a foolish question because I will never tell you.”

“You or Jon could get hurt!” Jason argues.

Get hurt? 

Jon thinks back to all of his interactions with the two older males in front of him only to remember that they never saw his power in action. The only members of Damian’s family to see it first hand are Mr. Pennyworth, Robin, Damian, and Batman to an extent. They probably know he’s invincible but they just don’t know how invincible, Jon concludes. So without any ceremony, Jon picks up a blade from the bag and immediately stabs it into his forehead causing the two men to scream many really bad words. Before they could grab the knife Jon manages to ram it into his neck to the sound of more screams. 

Jason manages to slap the blade away while Dick checks Jonathan over for injuries thankfully to find none. The older brother nearly collapses in relief as he holds onto Jon’s shoulders for leverage as he then grips him tightly at arm’s length shouting, “JON WHAT WERE YOU THINKING?!”

“I can’t get hurt,” Jon states with a confused stare. “I thought you guys knew that?”

“NO. I DIDN’T.” The man cries, shaking the costumed child back and forth rapidly.

“I did but that doesn’t mean you go testing every weapon you see on your body!” Jason shouts, tossing the blade back in the bag.

“Oh.”

Green eyes roll at the reactions of his brothers and cross his arms arrogantly, “Obviously I wouldn’t have brought them if I didn’t think he couldn't handle it.”

The second oldest Wayne brother sighs holding his head in his hand before dragging them down his face. “Why does B, keep putting me in these situations. I fucking quit all this weird shit for a reason.” He mutters under his breath.

“Hey, I don’t agree with this either but at least we know why he allowed them to be friends. Can’t kill a boy who can’t die.”

“Actually I can still kill him. Suffocation has proven itself effective and poisons have yet to be tested.” Damian elaborates much to the disdain of the two in front of him. 

The men groan in unison but decide it best not to pry into that anymore than they have to as to preserve their sanity. The older blue-eyed man releases Jon from his grip and inspects the two costumed boys with a tired expression. “I… Wh-... You know what? Nevermind. I’m still banning weapons. No weapons!” He commands as he snatches the duffle bag from his little brother’s hands. 

Damian scowls at the male holding his possessions with contempt but surprisingly doesn’t put up a fight at having his belongings confiscated. He grabs Jonathan’s hands and pulls him away. “Fine, come on we can train in other ways.”

“Holy shit Demon brat, get a clue!” the taller man shouts grabbing Damian’s arm to stop him from turning away from him. “We are here to make sure you don’t train! You’re supposed to do stupid normal kid stuff! Like… I dunno but not teaching Jon to fight!” 

The boy growls and rips his arm away from his captor and glares up at the man. “How else are we going to train Todd?! Superboy might be an indestructible being but he’s a sitting duck in a fight!”

“Hey!” Jon whines at the insult but can’t argue against that logic. 

“You two are not going to train at all!” Dick says agreeing with his brother. “Damian, you’re older than Jon. You’re supposed to be watching over him and setting good examples. You can play superheroes all you want but no actual fighting!”

“We aren’t just playing Grayson, that would be foolish especially being unprepared and I can’t expect Superboy to learn on his own. I am a master combatant who is well versed in the martial arts and the best candidate to teach him how to use his body to fight. It’s best to do this so I won’t have to keep my eye on him once out in the field.”

Dick is about to continue his arguments when Jason sticks out a muscular arm in front of him as he looks down on Damian in every sense of the word. He raises a brow at his younger brother and Jon before he asks a weird question. “So you’re just planning to leave him alone?”

“Of course not. He’s my shield and is meant to protect me but it would be useless if he couldn't also defend himself.” Damian elaborates in a calmer tone to match his brother’s.

“That’s still leaving him alone.”

“Little Wing, where are you going with this?” Dick asks warningly but is once again silenced by the hand next to his face. 

“Shush Dickie, I’m creating a learning experience.” He says promptly before proceeding. “You know what, Gremlin, we will do some training.”

“What?” The eldest and youngest Wayne question.

“YAY!” Jon cheers putting his hands in the air.

Dick pushes the arm away from his face and sharply turns to his younger brother with a furious and perplexed expression. “Jason, what the heck!?”

“Shut up Dick, I know what I’m doing.” He replies before throwing the duffle bag over his shoulder and crouching down to look the boys in the eyes. “We’re going to train by playing a game. For each round you win I’ll give you ONE weapon of choice back.”

Damian thinks about the offer with narrow eyes as he asks, “What is this game you’re propositioning?”

“It’s a game that only you can win and all you have to do is land a single hit on me before five minutes are up,” Jason explains methodically with a smug smile on his face.

“That’s all?” The boy chortles pretentiously while letting go of Jon’s hand to fully face his brother. “You are overestimating your skills or underestimating my abilities.”

Uproarious laughter is heard from next to the group where Dick was hunched over holding his gut confusing the two children in the vicinity while Jason’s smile becomes a full-on smirk. “Told ya Dickface.”

“Oh, this is gonna be good.” The man breaths wiping a tear from under his eye. “This isn’t even the best part!”

“You wanna explain this next part; you’re helping me so you might as well?”

“YES.” The man cheers leaning on his taller brother. “There’s always a catch Dami-”

“Don’t call me that.” Damian says but is ignored.

“If any time in the five minutes Jon is captured by either of us you automatically lose. Jon is allowed to help you but he cannot earn a win even if he does hit Jason.” Dick finishes explaining grinning ear to ear.

Damian doesn’t see the humor in this as his past Robins do but he also doesn’t see this as exercise as any sort of challenge. He’s studied both of the older males fighting styles and has created a comprehensive contingency plan for the event he has to fight either of them. Admittedly they aren’t as detailed as the one he’s created on Tim Drake but it should be enough to land a hit before they could even get close to Jon. “Superboy?”

“I wanna play! This sounds fun!” Jon answers jumping with joy at playing a new game.

“We are in agreement then,” Damian says with a firm nod as he addresses the men looking Todd straight in his teal eyes. “We accept your terms will take part in your game.”

“Good. I’ll start right in the center of the clearing while you and Jon do whatever.” The man says picking up the bag and heading over to the middle of the grassy patch. There was still a burnt patch of dirt and grass where the first attempt of a treehouse was built but other than that everything looked normal.

Damian reclaims Jonathan’s hand and leads him into the forest, the smaller boy struggling to keep up the pace with his untrained leg muscles. Green eyes examine the area they are hidden in that is far away enough to not be seen but still close enough to see the clearing. Jon doesn’t know what to do but he knows that if he gets captured then Damian loses so all he has to do is not get caught. The younger boy holds the back of Damian’s heavy cape so as to not get separated from the boy. Can’t be captured if they’re attached to each other. The older boy allows this as he contemplates the best course of action when Jason digs through the bag and pulls out a pistol. Damian bristles at the action but doesn’t dare speak out due to the concern of giving away his location.

The man checks if it’s loaded then after confirming it was, points it to the sky, covering his ear with a free hand, and fires it to signal the beginning of their five minutes. The loud bang makes Jon’s ears ring lightly, but he doesn’t have time to focus on that as Damian swiftly unclips his cape, wraps Jon in it, and shoves him under a bush before running off all in a matter of seconds. This infuriates the little boy because he thought they two were in this together but it’s clear that Damian was just planning on hiding him away while he does all the work. 

He can’t even see the fight!

Blue high top sneakers under his vision and Jon can see adult arm's reach inside the bush to swaddle the cape around him, limiting his range of movement, and pick him up. Jon doesn’t even try to struggle because he is that mad at Damian right now. He’s quickly carried to the clearing where Jon can hear the sound of fists slamming against each other and stop as he and Dick approach the two. 

“Superboy, I almost had him!” Damian shouts to the cocoon in Grayson’s arms. “Why did you let yourself get captured so easily!?”

“Cause you were being a total Butt.” Jon pouts puffing his cheeks in defiance. “I thought we were going to stick together.”

Jason stares at his older brother holding young Jonathan like an infant and jokes, “You know, I think this counts as actual cradle robbing.”

The man unwraps the boy and places his feet on the grass then chucks the cape at the younger man in retaliation. “Oh my God Jay, you can’t make jokes like that.”

He pulls the cape off of his face and throws it at the Robin costume child. “Looks like you lost this round, Demon Brat. You didn’t even hide him in a good spot.”

“I was only keeping him hidden long enough so that I could land a hit in before he would be captured,” Damian growls with his arms crossed. “But clearly that didn’t work.

“So you abandoned him?” Dick clarifies with a mocking task. “Forshame little bro. Dishonor on you, dishonor on your cow-

“There will be no dishonoring here! I demand we do this trial again!” Damian hisses through clenched teeth and red in the face. 

The hoodie-wearing male shrugs and nudges Jonathan towards the small vessel of fury with a nonchalant attitude. “Sure we can.”

“Just remember,” Dick calls out to the pair who are walking away from him, though it was mostly just Damian dragging Jon around, “this is not fighting practice! You’re supposed to protect him!”

The two end up hiding in a tree a few minutes later waiting for the next round to start with Damian trying to get the younger child to stop being cross with him. “Jonathan, I didn’t abandon you! I was just going to secure the win so that there would be no need to coddle you!”

“We’re supposed to be in this together Dami! I thought we agreed on being partners and partners don’t leave each other behind.” The child grumbles turning his chin at the older boy.

Said boy groans and smacks his forehead in frustration. “Fine. We’re in this together but what do we do? You are no match for Grayson or Todd who are both trained by Batman and several other masters. And it’s not like I can carry you to the battle-”

“Why not?”

“... You cannot be serious.”

“Oh, I am completely serious,” Jon confirms moving to look Damian in the eyes. “They can’t capture me if I’m with you the whole time.”

“Jonathan-”

“Ha! You used my name in uniform!”

Damian blinks at the child and instead of smacking him in the mouth he sighs and continues speaking. “...Jonathan, I cannot spend all of my energy protecting you.”

“Dami,” The young onesie wearing boy says in a dull tone. “I’M INVINCIBLE! All I gotta do is not let go and you can do all the cool punchy stuff!”

“The ‘cool punchy stuff’ requires a perfect balance that doesn’t take to kindly to tampering-”

“What, you think you can’t do it or something?”

“...”

Jason is getting way too old for this kind of thing. Technically he’s a teenager but after all of the shit he’s been put through in his nearly two decades of life he believes that he deserves to be passed. If anything he thinks it’s bullshit he’s not even the legal drinking age cause he really needs some alcohol right now. He knew that he was going to see some weird stuff when he took that burger in the Batmobile all those years ago, but two toddlers stupidly running at him headfirst like they were playing chicken in a pool was definitely not one of them.

He gives his older brother the universal, “Are you seeing this fucking shit?” look only to be greeted with a stupid smile and shrug. 

The two men make quick work of the duo by instantly separating them without much effort and holding up Jon by the back of his cape like a dejected cat. Dick shifts Jonathan in his arms to hold him up by his underarms and singing, “Naaaaaaaaaants’ ingonyamaaaaaaaa, bakithi, baba~!” at the top of his lungs.

“Shut up, that is your second Disney reference today!” Jason shouts at the man.

Dark blue eyes roll at his annoyance and put the confused child down. “Hey, I have to fit them somewhere in my vocabulary. Dami knows nothing of true culture and as the best big brother I have to teach him.” 

“Why are you still on that crap?”

“Because my life is an endless string of disappointments, torture, and failures. I need to keep myself the happy sibling somehow or else this entire family will fall apart into angst-ridden anarchy.” Dick explains in a happy tone throwing Jason’s mind in for a loop.

“I… What?”

“It’s some Gen Z humor Tim explained to me and it helps me to not have constant breakdowns.” 

“Are you seriously taking self-help advice from a caffeinated self-destructive fifteen-year-old little asshole who has a Tumblr and a TikTok account?!” The man in red hollers smacking the older male in blue upside the head.

Dick just shrugs saying, “Well yeah, if it works it works. I take advice from a number of sources and I’m still the happy one. You of all people shouldn’t be talking. You had a Vine account when you were his age.”

“God, we are all so fucked up.”

“Um… Jason, Dick,” Jon calls out pulling on both of the men’s shirts. “Are we going to play again?”

“Huh- Yeah sure.” The teen says waving the two off so that he can continue talking to his older brother through whatever is happening. 

Jon and Damian gleefully run back into the woods to plan their next move, finding the creek they found on their previous stint in the woods. The shorter boy looks at his friend and breaths out a long sigh. 

“Okay Dami, that didn’t work.” The boy states not knowing how else to begin the conversation.

The older child stomps on the ground repeatedly in a fit of rage, kicking up the mud around them and all over his green boots roaring, “I know it didn’t work, I was there Jonathan!”

“So are we just not going to use superhero names or what?” Jon jokes hearing his name slip from his lips again.

“We can use them again when we earn the right to. We definitely cannot bestow any titles upon ourselves now that we have shown how much of a failure we are on the field.” Damian expounds with an amount of pain hitting him with every word. The man runs his leather-gloved hand over his face again before sharply turning to the brightly colored child. “We are doing things my way again this time, got it?”

Jon reluctantly grunts in agreement, “Fine, but don’t just abandon me. Give me something to do at least.”

“Don’t get caught. That’s all you have to do by any means necessary.” Damian commands strictly as he gestures widely to the forest around them. “There is a ton of cover all around you. All you have to do is not get caught by Grayson or Todd for five whole minutes. Nothing more, nothing less. Grayson is most likely to go after you as Todd knows he is my main target.”

“But that’s going to be so boring!” Jon complains, throwing his head back. 

“Jonathan, this is serious. If we can’t get past them think about what this will mean for our future! We can’t be a crime fighter if we can’t beat a simple training exercise.” The older boy growls holding Jon firmly by the left shoulder. “This goes past playing a game or winning back my armory. This is to prove that we can handle more serious tasks than something so simple as evading and attacking! We cannot keep failing like this so pull some weight in this team and do as I say, understood?!”

Blue eyes gaze blankly into the glassy white covers of Damian’s green domino mask trying to understand what he meant by this not being a game but he doesn’t. He kind of gets it to an extent yet he can’t concentrate on the specifics. All the son of Superman really comprehends is that they probably can’t deal with real superhero stuff if they keep losing. He doesn’t see the correlation but Damian is really smart so he probably knows something Jon doesn’t. The child shakes his head in agreement before being pushed away by the other who turns on his head and heads closer to the clearing. 

“Good. I’ll be near the front to buy us more time when the game starts. It seems that those two idiots are too busy talking about trivial nonsense. We must use this opportunity wisely, that means that you need to find a good hiding spot.” He explains as he walks away. “If you need help, don’t. When the round is over and you haven’t been found I’ll call you over so don’t stray too far from this location.”

“I got it, just hurry and go already Mr. Grump!” Jon pouts not taking too kindly to the mean attitude being used on him. 

“Good. I promise after this I will properly train you so that you can be more useful in combat.”

“Holy cow Dami can you just go!” Jon shouts even though the older boy has already disappeared into the forest. 

Jon spends a few seconds muttering to himself about how unfair his treatment feels when the familiar ring of the gun echoes through the forest signaling the start of the game. The boy panics at the loud noise and runs across the creek and further into the woods to find a place to hide believing that the eldest Wayne sibling will be on his tail any second when he remembers that he’s not allowed to stray too far from the running water. He stops and decides to hide inside a nearby shrub behind a thick tree for the remainder of the round. 

Not even two seconds go by when a hand shoots into view from outside the leaves and pulls Jon from his hiding spot. Jon thinks that Dick must be really good at finding people because it took Jon minutes to even get to this point from the clearing only to realize those are way too skinny and pale to be the older man’s. He comes face to face with a very tired looking Tim Drake-Wayne who has concerningly dark bags underneath his royal blue eyes. The teen’s skin is almost translucent with a hint grey and his arms are shaking incredibly bad. Man, and Jon thought he looked terrible last night.

The male looks Jon over, eyes focusing on the House of El symbol on his chest before going back up to meet the child’s face; more importantly his sky-blue eyes. The boy takes in a harsh breath before exhaling and gripping Jon tightly on the shoulder. Jon is beginning to think that he needs to invest in shoulder pads with how open people hold him there. 

“Hi.” Tim says cautiously as his heavily dilated pupils erratically scan the area around them.

“Hi!” Jon greets politely. “Are you playing the game too? I don’t think this should count as a win because I didn’t even know you were here. Are you okay, you look weird?”

The young teen takes his hands off of the child and roughly slides them down his own face muttering what seems to be incoherent gibberish for the most part. There is one word that Jon thinks is an actual word and a name at that; Kon. He’s heard that name before but where. The child does his best to remember but is coming up empty. Kon… Kon… Uh… Nope. Nothing. Jonathan should really work on his memory stuff but sadly now is not the time for that because the person in front of him is clearly distressed.

“Tim? Are you okay?” The boy asks in an attempt to get a coherent answer.

“Huh?” Tim says snapping out of whatever trance he was in previously. “Oh, right. I’m FINE. Fine, just fine. Fine fine fine fine fine fine fine fine fine FINE!”

“That doesn’t sound fine.” 

The male runs a nervous hand through his straight black locks of hair and takes another deep breath. “I’m fine, really. Just a little tired after 76 hours of continual consciousness. So just out of curiosity, how did you come up with the name Superboy?”

Jon smiles gleefully as he tells Tim, “My Dad is Superman and I’m not a man yet so that means I’m Superboy!”

“Yeah, of course, you are.” The older boy sighs with a distant expression. “And are you the only Superboy?”

The child tilts his head to the side perplexed by such an odd question. “Well duh. I think I would know if there was another Superbooooo-” Wait… That sentence doesn’t feel right when he says it out loud. “I’m the first… No…” Jon licks his lips and clears his throat before trying to say the sentence again. “I’m the only Superboy- Am I saying that wrong?” He looks down at the chest of his onesie at the Superman-Logo with more intensity than he usually does thinking about the super-side of his family. “There’s Superman, Supergirl, Superwoman, Superdog, and I’m supposed to be Superbo- I forgot someone.” He recalls the name Tim said earlier and tries to fit that into the list, just to see if it fits. “And Kon is Superboy.” That sounds right when he hears himself say it but he doesn’t know a Kon. There is no Kon. Maybe that’s his Kryptonian name; his dad did say that he would tell him his when the time is right.

“I’m Superboy,” Jon says just to make sure it still feels right to say, which it does. He looks back up to Tim to answer him, to say that he should be the only Superboy, but the teenager is looking at Jon as though he gave him a lifetime supply of cookies. “Uh… Tim?

The lean male shakes his head, trying his best to relax his smile, and urgently begins to state, “Jon, I ne- Whhooo, okay. Okay. I need you to come with me. It’s really important that you do right now-”

“Sorry Tim,” The child apologizes. “Dami said I had to stay here for at least five minutes so we can win a gam-”

“Okay, so we are doing this the hard way, got it,” Timothy says, taking a weird glowing green-tipped autoinjector out of the pocket of his washed-out skinny jeans. “This is going to hurt for only a second.

“Wait what-” are the last words Jon is able to let out before he feels a sharp pain in his thigh.

And then the world goes black.

When Jon wakes up from… from whatever just happened to him the first thing he notices is that the world is upside down. The second thing he notices is that the world is not, in fact, upside down but it’s Jon who is upside down. The boy correctly concludes that he’s been kidnapped for real by Robin and is dangling from the ceiling by his leg. He does his best to check his surroundings but he can only see the area directly around him from a light above him.

Since he is just being held by a rope the boy does his best to curl his body upwards to untie the knot on his ankle only to discover that he, in fact, cannot do a single pull up. Jon can hear Dami call him useless now and doesn’t want to think about how he was right. He lets his body fall back down causing the rope to start swinging and turning softly. The child feels the back of his head hit something firm but not quite hard. He moves his hands behind him in an attempt to get his bearings, his fingers getting caught in his cape one too many times, before using all of his strength to propel himself forward. He turns mid-swing around to see what was that rough textured wall he felt was made up of to find a conspiracy board. 

Jonathan has never seen one in real life, only in cartoons, but it is definitely a conspiracy board. The seven-year-old is not an avid reader, no matter what his mom does, and his education is that of a basic first-grader so he can’t understand everything written. He does know how to read his own name and play connect the dots, meaning that he can see the red string connecting the different pieces of evidence going back to one sheet of paper.

One sheet of paper with the words, “JON KNOWS.”

But Jon doesn’t know; he’s pretty sure that he knows nothing at all. Before he can figure out what he apparently knows the click of a door alerts him to someone entering the room. He pushes himself against the corkboard to turn himself around again so that he can face them to find Tim in his full Robin costume stepping into the light with… an entire disposable drink tray filled with coffee cups. That’s not what Jon was expecting but who is he to judge someone’s drink choices.

The teenager downs one of the four cups on the tray in record time before throwing the cup down to the floor looking more relieved, but extremely jittery. “Sorry about that, I had to step out to grab some coffee. Did you wait long?” Jon shakes his head allowing the other boy to continue. “That’s good.” 

He takes another cup off the tray and leaves the illuminated area only to return quickly with a rolling desk chair for him to sit on. While he’s getting himself situated Jon asks the obvious question, “Why did you kidnap me?” 

After a sip of coffee, Robin looks at Jon inquisitively to gauge his current mindset before explaining himself. “I didn’t kidnap you. I’m just borrowing you for a couple of hours without telling anyone. Kidnaping makes it seem like I’m not going to return you.”

“Oh okay,” Jon says, accepting the answer at face value for what it is because teenagers and adults usually know what they’re doing. “So why did you borrow me? Also, why does my leg hurt?”

“That’s just a sedative meant to be used on Superman in the event of a- You know what doesn’t matter. Just know that you’ll be fine. It’s like Kryptonian NyQuil.” He says as he puts his elbows on his knees and rolls the chair forward to get a closer look at Jon. “As for why I borrowed you it has to do with a certain commonality we share.”

“Uh, black hair and blue eyes?”

“No, something more unique,” Tim states, reaching under his seat to grab a bright red folder from a metal tray and opening it. It looks a lot like the superhero plan Dami tried to get him to read once. “You’ve been blacking out to visions only to forget them the moment they end. Is that correct?”

“Geez, did Dami tell you about that?” Jon groans as his arms dangle uselessly below him.

“I deduced it myself. It’s not hard to figure out when I have them too.”

Jon freezes at the statement. He thought he was just a really weird daydreamer or something. To hear that it’s not just him is really refreshing in a way he didn’t know he needed. This does bring the issue of why it’s happening to them and if they are the only ones who have this condition. “You do? What is it? Is there something wrong with me?”

“No, there’s nothing wrong with you specifically.” He says flipping through the folder and pulling out a sheet of paper before putting the binder back in the tray. “And by training myself for the past month I am able to retain some memory of these visions when they happen. I have a number of theories that could explain them.”

He stands up with the paper in hand and holds Jonathan’s side to rotate him so that he’s facing the conspiracy board. The teen faces the child to several long articles behind him filled with words he definitely can’t read. “Mr. Robin-”

“Just call me Robin.”

“Robin, I can’t read.”

“Oh, right. Sorry, I’m not used to working with someone who hasn’t graduated elementary school.” He apologizes after taking another long sip of coffee. “So, my first theory is that we are actually in a time travel mishap and our future memories have somehow made contact with our current bodies. Whether it is an attempt to tell us something is unclear. I asked a teammate of the possibility but got nothing conclusive meaning that it has nothing to do with the speed force.”

“What’s the speed force?” Jon asks as that’s the only part he could kind of understand. 

“It’s nothing you have to worry about for now. Hopefully. My next theory is that someone has altered everyone’s memories to try and change the world into something it shouldn’t be, but some people like us are resilient to it. Instead of this being our future memories these are actually our past memories that have slipped through the cracks. Something of that magnitude would be nearly impossible to hide and according to the Justice League databases nothing that could create a disaster of that scale exists.”

“WAIT! Are you telling me this could be, like, real superhero stuff?”

Robin quirks a brow at Jon’s question before replying, “Uh… Yes?” 

Jon couldn’t believe it, he’s involved in real superhero stuff! He’s with a real superhero, in a secret location, while they’re both in costume, having a (one-sided) conversation about a dangerous superhero problem! “Cool...” Jon breaths in awe as he looks at the wordy papers he can’t understand in a new light. 

“Riiiiight… Anyways my last theory so far is that someone is projecting these visions into our minds as some sort of subliminal messaging to get us more susceptible to an idea or paranoid about a future that doesn’t exist.” He finishes explaining turning Jon around as he sits back in the chair. “To help me narrow this down I need you to answer a few questions of mine and then I’ll work from there-”

“What’s that paper in the corner say?” The child interrupts seeing the crudely drawn portrait of the earth in the corner of the corkboard. “And why is there a flyer for Hawaii?”

“The travel brochure is just part of a side venture I’m working on, don’t worry about it.”

The half-Kryptonian huffs in annoyance at being obviously brushed off and continues to get more answers. “Okay but what about the other thing?”

“That’s just a theory I had to eliminate, nothing important-”

“Explain it to me,” Jon demands, glowering at Tim with a barbarity that came ostensibly out of nowhere, “You can’t keep leaving me out of these things, Red.” As soon as the words leave his mouth the scowl is receded to be replaced by Jonatha’s normal childish demeanor. “Robin. Sorry, I didn’t mean to ask rudely.”

The vigilante straightens up in his seat to scan Jonathan’s features for any information about the outburst before tentatively continuing to speak. “It’s fine. Have you ever heard of multiverse theory?”

“Nope!” Jon says popping the “p.”

“That’s to be expected. I don’t think they teach that in primary school.” Robin breaths flipping the paper over to the blank side and taking out a mechanical pencil from the crook of his ear to draw branching paths. “It’s basically the concept of more than one universe. Let’s say that this morning you had a choice of eating a cookie or an apple for breakfast. What do you do?”

Jon concentrates on the enigma longer than he really needs before coming to his conclusion. “Well… I really want a cookie but I would eat the apple because it’s healthier.”

“You’re a good boy.” He teases lightly drawing the two snacks above a branching line. “Now we’re in a universe where you ate the apple but the universe where you ate the cookie still exists. There is a world where you ate the cookie and it would still be as real as the one where you ate the apple. Even as real as the world we are in right now. A world where you made the choice you didn’t in this one. Are you following me?”

“I think I do. So then that means there would be a world where I’m not Superman’s son or you’re not Robin?”

“In theory, there very well could be, but that’s only a theory,” Tim emphasizes this point by crumpling up the paper in his hands and throwing it over his shoulder into the darkness. “I eliminated this theory for a very good reason; because alternate realities don’t exist.”

That answer doesn’t settle right in Jon’s chest in the same way the phrase, “Jon’s the only Superboy” doesn’t. While probably true it feels wrong hearing it. “How do you know?”

The teen stands from his seat to finally untie the child from his rope prison and lays him on the ground. While the boy is dealing with all the blood rushing down from his head and into his body Timothy proceeds to elaborate the absurdity of multiverse theory. “If such a thing ever existed it would have been discovered long before I became Robin or at least a few years after earth’s first major invasion from an advanced alien race. If not that some crazy scientist would have most definitely tried to create some evil portal gun to travel between worlds.”

“Maybe they did and you just don’t know.” 

“Sure, and maybe I’ll give the title of Robin to the Demon Brat.” Tim sarcastically jokes seating Jon down in the chair. “I have access to every supercomputer including the Justice League’s and the Batcomputer. If they haven’t encountered it or even the conception of such a device or magical power then it probably doesn’t exist.”

“I think it does.” Jon declares with a shockingly high amount of confidence. “I feel it in my belly.”

Tim smiles down at the boy and fixes the boy’s messy hair. “That’s called a gut feeling. So, how much are you willing to bet it on it?”

Innocent blue eyes stare into the whites of Robin’s mask before stating in a determined tone, “My life.”

“That’s what I like to hear.” Tim’s smile gets wider and grabs Jonathan’s rubber-gloved hand and leads him into the darkness of the room. “We gotta do one more thing and then I’ll take you back to play at your little clubhouse.”

“Okay, Robin! I hope it will be quick. I didn’t even get to tell them I was leaving because you borrowed me.” Jon mentions, skipping along next to the teenager as he opens the door.

The teen just shrugs at the child’s worries as they exit the room into a brightly lit metal hallway. “It hasn’t been that long. They probably haven’t even noticed.”

“HOLY SHIT WE LOST SUPERMAN’S SON!” Dick shouts loudly into the forest as he tries to work himself out of a full-blown panic! 

“Shut the fuck up Dickface, we know!” Jason shouts back popping out from a random bush, leaves and twigs sticking out of his curly hair. “We know we lost him! We found that out three hours ago!”

“But- but what if he was eaten by bears, or got carried away by a current or-”

“Stop thinking like that! If we don’t find him soon Superman will have our asses!” The man shouts at his older brother as he steps out of the bush. “Have you seen the Gremlin? He should be helping! It’s his freaking friend that’s missing!”

“Huh, oh. Dami went into shock about two hours ago.” The eldest Wayne states nonchalantly like it was a normal thing people do. 

“I’m sorry what?” Jason asks because there was no way he was hearing that right.

“Yeah, he’s underneath that tree. Hasn’t moved an inch since the fact that Jon went missing became abundantly clear.” The man points to the child laid on his back seemingly staring into the vast open sky with an emotionless expression on his face.

“Fuck.” The older teenager stalks over to the child and nudges the side of his foot into Damian’s ribs. “Demon Brat, now is not the time for this. We all gotta look if we have any hope of not getting lobotomized by laser vision.”

Damian retaliates this small attack with one of his own slams his heel directly into the older male’s shin earning a satisfying grunt of pain. “I’m not in shock like Grayson would foolishly have you believe.”

“Then why in the Hell are you just laying here like a useless sack of potatoes?” Jason spits back cradling his quickly bruising leg.

“-Tt- Unlike you dullards, I have already discovered what happened to Jonathan hours ago.” He announces causing his two older brothers to pick Damian up by the collar and shake him frantically demanding answers. Instead of growling at them or fighting against their manhandling of him Damian just calmly reaches into his pocket and pulls out what appears to be a kryptonite tipped syringe. “While you were busy searching futilely for Jonathan I discovered this only a few feet away from where I left him.”

“HOLY FUCK SOMEONE KIDNAPPED SUPERMAN’S SON!” Jason yells, dropping the child after taking the device from his hands. “HOW?!”

“WHY DIDN’T YOU TELL US; WE COULD HAVE DONE SOMETHING AGES AGO?!” Dick screeches as he continues to shake the child in mid-air.

Damian rolls his eyes and stares at the man in the most peaceful and relaxed manner possible. “I didn’t tell you because I was devising a plan to punish the perpetrator. First I will tie him down on an unsanitary dissection table after sedating them with the very same device he used on Jon. After explaining their crimes so that they will understand the severity of their action I will begin to disembowel him. As I’m not a savage I will administer a heavy amount of painkillers so that he won’t be able to pass out from the pain. I shall show them their bowels in my bloody hands and all he will be able to do is watch and beg for the mercy of a quick death that is too good for scum like him. I’ll learn to knit using their intestines as my yarn and their femurs as my needles. Then when I have finished knitting a noose I will hang them with it and smile as I watch the life drain from his eyes.”

The two men stare at the disturbed child joyfully explaining a fully well thought out torture session to them. Neither Dick nor Jason want to unpack any part of that so they decide to focus on a different aspect of that short monolog instead. “You keep referring to this person as ‘he.’ Does that mean you know who they are?” The older of the two males ask gently.

“Of course I do.”

“And are you going to tell us who it is?” Jason asks.

“It’s obvious. Who else has access to this location and a kryptonite needle?”

Both brothers think for only a moment as the precipitator's face instantly comes into mind. Almost simultaneously both men smack their foreheads and run their hands down their faces with loud disgruntled groans. They hold Damian by the wrist and drag him back to the treehouse to go and pick up the son of Superman while simultaneously holding back a struggling ten-year-old. 

Meanwhile back with Tim and Jon the two were coming up on some roadblocks in the former’s plan to get to the bottom of these visions. These roadblocks were none other than the entire Young Justice team who were all expressing different levels of concern and alarm directed towards the pair. Robin didn’t do much other than sip his coffee as he waited for the chaos to settle down while Jon stares on in a mixture of awe and confusion. There was an entire group of young superheroes right in front of him. He really wants to greet everyone but they were all too busy screaming about something.

“Holy shit Robin you can’t just go kidnapping children!” A young red-head male screeches as he zips around the room.

A blond muscular girl in a black and gold tank top tightly wads her hands in her blond hair as she gawks at Jonathan like he’s some sort of ghost. “SUPERMAN HAD A SON?!”

A young transparent girl floats up to them while looking over the child curiously before hovering close to the boy wonder nervously. “Um… When was the last time you slept?”

“I’m fine, Secret. I treat my body like a temple.” Robin deadpans as he downs the remains of his coffee. “Did you call over Miss Martian like I asked?”

“Yeah, she’s just finishing up in the kitchen.” She softly answers before floating backward to join the rest of the panicking group.

“Dude, temple my ass, your temple is a freaking ancient ruin with how well you’re treating it!” The hyper teenager screams, stopping his nervous pacing in front of the duo. “Superman is going to murder you and then murder us because we didn’t stop you! We’re guilty by association!”

“I did this by myself, Impulse, and watch your language.” He commands gesturing to the child he’s holding.

“I still don’t know what ‘ass’ means.” Jon states remembering no one ever explained the definition to him. 

“Oh crap, I made Superman’s kid swear! I’m definitely going to die now!”

“Shut up Impulse!” The strong blond girl shouts “Now, as the leader of the group, I say we should just return the kid back to wherever he came from before anyone else finds out.”

“Okay guys, who wants cookiiiiiieeeeEEEEEEEEEEEEE ROBIN!” A green girl with red hair shrieks looking at the small adorable onesie-wearing child holding their tactician’s hand. “How many cups of coffee did you have to drink before thinking that kidnapping a child was a good idea! And oh my gosh I can see your eyes bags from here, how long have you been awake?!”

The girl quickly sets down what appears to be a tray of burnt pastries down on the table in the living area they were currently in and rushes up to Jonathan with a distressed look on her face. She kneels to the floor check over him for any injuries while Tim answers her question. “I’ve had 8 double expressos, 4 cups of black coffee, 3 lattes, 2 caramel frappuccino, and 1 iced coffee in 80 hours of an uninterrupted stream of consciousness.”

“...Jesus Christ Robin, that's over 2000mg of caffeine!” The martian gasps as she looks up at the younger teen in horror. 

“And that’s not even close to the lethal amount.” Tim defends much to the agony of his team.

“Rob, dude. You would inject pure caffeine into your veins if no one stopped you.” Impulse jokes as he takes the cup out of his friend’s hands. 

“I wouldn’t go that far but I would definitely try to snort caffeine powder if I was desperate enough.”

“He finally admitted it!”

“Wow, he must be really out of it.”

“He better be because I refuse to believe the smartest guy on the team is this much of an idiot sober!” The blonde girl shouts as she kneels next to the green girl. “Hello!”

“Hi!”

“Are you okay? Did this mean man hurt you?” The girl coos ruffling his hair.

Tim sighs at what she’s implying and groans, “Wonder Girl, I’m not a freaking monster.”

Jon nods in agreement as he tells her that he’s fine. “No, I mean getting stabbed in the leg kind of hurt but I stopped feeling the pain once I woke up tied-up in the darkroom!”

“... Holy sh- ROBIN!” Wonder Girl shouts standing to smack Robin in the back of the head. 

“It’s fiiiiiine, everything is fine. You’re fine, right Superboy?”

“I’m fine!” Jon agrees with some pep in his step at being referred to as Superboy by a real hero.

“See.” Tim looks back to the green girl and states, “Miss Martian, I need you to scan his mind.”

The female gawks at him, jaw almost to the floor, as she yanks the boy out of Tim’s hands. “I’m sorry, WHAT?!” 

“That sounds fun!” Jon cheers.

“No! I’m not going to riffle through an eight-year old’s mind!”

“I’m seven!”

“THAT’S WORSE!” She screeches standing up to confront him. “When you said you had proof about this ‘Kon’ person existing we expected you to bring us, like, blueprints or a picture! NOT A CHILD!”

“This is better proof. If you could just scan his mind and draw out his memories-”

“Robin, I didn’t do that to you for the same reason won’t do it on him; privacy and the fact I could break your mind!” She loudly elaborates grabbing the sidekick by the forearms and shaking him profusely. 

“Then are you at least going to take my word on it this time?” He asks with a strong amount of cruelty in his words as he pushes himself out of the girl’s grasp. 

“Rob, buddy,” Impulse says putting his arm around the teen’s shoulder in a friendly but grounding manner. “It’s not that we didn’t believe you, we’re a team and we’ve definitely been through weirder stuff, but we can’t just go off on some mission to find some guy who might not even exist. We need more evidence that doesn’t involve kidnapping children. You’re smart and we’ll help you in any way we can cause we got time.”

“We don’t have time! He’s out there, he’s real, and he should be here with us!” Tim screams holding his head and shaking. “He should already be here! He was always right next to me! You don’t understand that we have to act now! You don’t feel what I do, that he’s out waiting for me to find him! Someone or something has tampered with my mind, with our mind, and we- we need…”

“Oh no, it’s happening again.” The speedster says holding his friend steady as Robin begins to sway before freezing completely where he’s standing with a blank expression. “And just when we thought he stopped having them too.”

Jon walks up to the older teen curiously as he watches what was a very animated boy seconds earlier resemble a statue. He’s never had the chance to see what he himself looks like when he enters this state, but he thinks it’s probably a lot like what Tim is doing right now. He’s pulled back into Miss Martian’s arms away from the blacked-out boy and turned to face her. “He’s going to be okay Superboy, don’t worry.”

“I know. I have them too!” Jon explains so reassures her that he’s not fretting for the reason she thinks he is. “I’m just worried about what he’s seeing.”

The Wonder Girl turns the boy around to face her with a serious expression on her face, “Can you please explain what you mean by that? What do you think he’s seeing?”

“I dunno.” The little boy shrugs tilting his head as he looks at the girl with his wide blue eyes. “I don’t really remember mine, but Robin says that he can. Sometimes after they happen to me I get a really bad feeling in my belly or everything gets boring for a few seconds. My friend tells me that I make weird assumptions after they happen.”

The four people in the room stared at the boy with varying degrees of concern. They don’t react right away as they are all having a silent conversation between each other, or maybe an actual silent conversation if he remembers their superpowers correctly. Jon is a huge fan of superheroes and while he doesn’t know every superhero’s powers he knows the Justice League. He knows the girl is green and a martian like Martian Manhunter so they probably have the same superpowers too. 

Just then a loud robotic feminine voice echoes through the halls of the Young Justice HQ announcing, “Recognized; Nightwing #B01. Recognized; Robin #RH02. Recognized; Batman #02. Recognized; Guest.”

Impulse is the first of the group to make a move and immediately closes and locks all of the doors in the area. “Holy crap guys it’s almost the entire Bat Clan! They’re coming for our heads cause we have Superman’s son!”

“M-maybe they don’t know!” The ghost girl nervously tries to reassure them. “Maybe they just want to introduce a new member to the team. It does say they brought a guest with them!”

“It doesn’t matter!” The blonde shouts in a frantic voice. “We should just give Superboy back and turn over Robin. They’ll go easy on him, he’s one of them!”

“We can’t turn him in! Who knows what will happen to Rob, remember the last time we thought that!? Robin number 2 almost killed him!” Impulse retaliates pulling his friend closer to him. “There’s still blood on the wall from that!”

“That was ages ago, get over it! We’re prepared for that now! If things go south we’ll back him up!”

The speedy young teen breaths in profusely to calm down his nerves when suddenly a long blade pierces itself through the male’s chest. The team immediately goes into fight mode as the spring onto their attacker. The red-head was quick enough to push Robin out of the way of the steel poking through him and quickly phased the weapon out of him. When he turns around he doesn’t see anyone there. 

Wonder Girl goes on the offense and flies towards the now open air vent and punches it shut effectively blocking their escape seeing as all of the doors are still locked. “Miss Martian, scan the area! Secret, take the boy to the Abyss! There are clear hostile threats!” She barks at the transparent and the Martian girls. Before they can do as they’re told Jonathan picks up the blade from the ground and smiles. 

“WAIT! We’re fine, it’s just my friend!” Jon shouts, shocking the group. 

“I’m sorry what?! That katana was through my chest! If I wasn’t a speedster I would be dead! D-E-A-D dead!” Impulse shrieks pointing at the blade in Jon’s hand. “What kind of friends are you making, kid?!”

“He wouldn’t kill you because killing is bad.” The child says with a bit too much confidence. “He stabbed me plenty of times and I’m okay!”

“Holy fu-”

“Language,” Nightwing, in full uniform, says as he walks through the now unlocked doors as he looks at the scene before him. “Is everyone okay?”

“NO!” Impulse screams as he picks his friend back up off the floor, who is also coming back to consciousness. “Someone was able to get the drop on us and stabbed me!”

“Are you bleeding?”

“I mean, I was able to vibrate my cells in time before it could do any damage but that doesn’t excuse the fact someone tried to stab me!”

“I wasn’t trying to stab you.” A new voice says crawling up from under the living room table. “I was aiming for that pest in your arms. You were just in my way.” 

The group jumps at the newcomer they didn’t notice behind them to see a very small child dressed in a, well made but obviously not official, Robin costume. The boy glares at everyone around him before settling on Jonathan, who is still holding his sword. He stomps over to the boy and rips the weapon back into his possession only to have it taken away again by Nightwing.

“Holy crap it’s another Robin! But ours hasn’t even died yet!” Secret squeals pointing at the little boy.

“The fuck you say?!” A deep voice bellows out from the hallway as Jason, who is only wearing a red domino mask to conceal his identity, comes into view with a very exasperated Batman in tow. “I’m right here assholes!”

“Language.”

“Fuck off!”

Batman walks up to Robin and throws him over his shoulder. He turns to the team of young teenagers and apologizes for his children’s behavior before unceremoniously attempting to walk away with the boy wonder. He’s stopped by his struggling ward who tries to escape the man’s firm grasp on his person. “B, I’m not done yet! This is important mission stuff!”

“No, this is clearly a personal problem. You’re grounded.” The man answers.

“You don’t understand!” The teen whines pounding his fists on the man’s back repeatedly. 

“I understand that you have had too much caffeine, compromised the safety of Superman’s son, and lied to me when you said that you’ve been sleeping. What were you even doing bringing him here?”

“You don’t need to know!”

“Robin.”

“For all you know I could have adopted him! Superboy is my child now and you are taking me away from my baby!”

“He has parents.”

“That’s never stopped you before; I’m the proof of that!” The rest of that conversation fades into the background as Tim is carried off back towards the teleporters by the Dark Knight. 

The group stares at the exit cautiously before breaking apart to resume other things that are not what they were doing before; not without being threatened to secrecy about the events of today and the existence of Superboy by a very angry Jason Todd. The three Waynes plus Jon go to the teleporters to go back to the treehouse. The entire walk there Damian has refused to let go of Jonathan’s hand, not that the boy was complaining but he feels that the older boy is off-kilter just a bit.

“Demon Brat, you’re so lucky you didn’t get grounded for stabbing Impulse!” The older teen in red groans as he types in the coordinates for the treehouse teleporter into a handheld remote he grabbed from his pocket. “Actually, you’re lucky the entire team wasn’t there to kick your ass!”

“I could have taken them. Those dimwits didn’t even notice I was there until I allowed myself to be known.” The child scoffs slouching in his cape as a bright blue light envelopes them before fading to the inside of the treehouse.

“Uh, Dami?” Jon speaks to get his attention.

“What?”

“Can you let go now?” Jon asks as the four of them step off the teleporter. 

Damian glares at the younger child and holds his hand tighter with a growl. “No.”

Confused, the boy repeats what he heard just to make sure it was correct. “No?”

“No, I am not letting go. In fact, I’m never letting go ever again!” Damian shouts startling everyone in the small bedroom area of the fortress. He emphasizes his point by tightening his grip on the red glove in some attempt to hurt him, but Jon can’t feel the pain.

Jon stares at Damian in a perplexed way trying to figure out what would cause such an irregular reaction from his friend. “That’s weird. Why?”

“Jonathan you were just kidnapped-”

“Borrowed.” The child corrects interrupting the older boy. 

“What?” 

“Robin said that he was borrowing me, not kidnapping!”

“AND YOU BELIEVED HIM!?” Damian roars slapping Jon upside the head causing his skull to tilt to the side. 

“Yes, he’s a superhero, and superheroes don’t lie!” He defends with his simple logic like it explained everything in a finalized manner leaving no room for any arguments.

Damian, and by extension his older brothers, stare dumbfounded at the little boy with an abundance of innocence left in him before Damian rightfully explodes on him. “You are an imbecile. A complete and utter imbecile and I am mortified I was foolish enough to hold even the scantiest amount of concern for your well being. I’m going to install a tracker into your skin so this never happens again, else I’d have to lock you away from your own stupidity!”

Jon doesn’t understand most of what was being said to him, a feeling he has gotten used to, and focuses on what he can. What he does understand is that his usually emotionally constipated friend cares and was worried about him. “Aw thanks, Dami!” Jon sings giving the taller child a tight hug.

“Aaaaaauuurrrrgggghhh! Jon let go of me!” He yelps, protesting violently by doing his best to smack the boy off of him to no avail. 

“Nu.”

“I HATE YOU!”

“Nu-uh! You just said you didn’t!”

“That is not what I meant by that!”

Dick watches the children bond with a fond smile on his face as he turns to his taller younger brother and pats him on the back of his shoulder. “I know this exercise is supposed to instill the importance of protecting your comrades, but this is not what I think you had in mind.”

“Urrrrrgh, why do I even try?” Jason groans taking off his mask to pinch the bridge of his nose as the sound of shrieking children grows louder. 

“Cause you care.” The older man answers watching the two children fight each other. Suddenly the costumed hero jolts in his spot and claps his and together as he recalls something extremely important. “Hey, I just remembered you’re also in charge of watching them during the Annual Justice League Family Picnic next week.”

“... WHAT?!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys, hope y'all remember there was a plot and not just a cute friendship story! I'm doing my best to make sure the plot is cohesive but not heavy. I'm not too much of a heavy plot person but I'm challenging myself with this story. I never knew I could write 10k words let alone an +80k word story. 
> 
> I love the super sons comic so much and I was so sad when it ended so shortly. It's actually what got me into comics in the first place! I needed more of these boy's sweet friendship in my life so I just planned to write this as some sort of Frankenstein monster of a creation channel my energy into.
> 
> It's nice to read the comments and I really appreciate all of you and how positive everyone has been! Next week will be the Justice League Annual Family Picnic!


	9. Picnic Panic (Part 1)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jon finally gets to meet more heroes!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Y'all are great and wonderful! I'll never stop thanking all of you every chapter because I'm that grateful. IDK what happened between now and my last chapter but there has been a significant increase in people who clicked on this story. This is great and I'm thankful while also 20x more nervous because I was expecting only a few people to even read this seeing how small the number of works in Super Sons are. 
> 
> I'm finished with my finals and free for the summer so hopefully, my writing will improve now that school isn't stressing me out. Thank you again and I hope y'all enjoy it!

It was a beautiful calm Friday night, his last free Friday night before school started on Tuesday. He was tucked in tightly into his bed all zipped up in his giraffe onesie next to his locked window dreaming about the fun he’s going to have tomorrow when he meets up with all of his school friends so that they can all play in the cornfields one last time before they have to worry about homework. The thought of them playing hide and seek together brings Jon an exceptional amount of glee. He doesn’t know who his teacher is yet, but his mom said she had it covered.

He was almost asleep, on the cusp of a dream, when he felt himself being violently shaken awake by his father. The child is disoriented, scared, and definitely awake as his father frantically checks over Jon for any injuries, which was weird because all he was doing was laying in bed trying to sleep. Jon rubs the sleepiness out of his eyes and looks at his father who flinches and covers his son’s ears before a loud bang fires through the household. Even though the sound is muffled he clearly knows that it’s the sound of his parents’ shotgun going off downstairs. With superhuman speed Clark flies through the room in a blue and red blur allowing Jon to notice that his father is in full Superman mode; something he hasn’t seen since Clark revealed his secret identity to Jon.

When Superman is done he’s carrying several bags filled to the brim with Jonathan’s toys, games, clothes, and other important things. It’s not all of his stuff but enough to not miss anything of significance. The man hurriedly wraps his boy in his blanket, making sure to securely tuck him a way none of his limbs would be able to escape. 

“Dad?” Jon yawns out confused and panicked. 

The large man just holds his baby boy tighter doing his best to reassure him, yet not able to bring himself to say anything. Superman stands up quickly as another shot rings out through the house and flies down where Jon can see his mother, still in her pink pajamas, holding a shotgun and aiming it out the door into the darkness of the night. Lois looks at them with a frightened and relieved expression as she runs up to her family and holds them in a tight embrace.

“Oh thank God Jon’s okay!” She cries into Jonathan’s shoulder holding him tightly without taking him out of his father’s arms. 

“Mom? What’s going on?”

“It’s going to be okay, baby.” She says before turning to her husband. “Did you destroy the teleporter in the barn?”

“Already done,” Superman says morbidly, holding a shell-shocked Jon close. “How many more are out there?”

The brunette shakes her head and partially covers her mouth saying, “Clark, it’s the whole freaking town!”

The man doesn’t say much before handing his wife a bag of their belongings and swooping her up into his free arm. He looks at the two and gives them the most comforting smile he can muster, gazing upon his family home one last time, and shooting up through the ceiling to fly as fast as he can out of Hamilton county. Jon is now screaming at his father demanding to know what’s going on but if they answered him during this time then the seven-year-old wouldn’t have been able to hear it.

That’s because the Javelin, the Justice League’s designated aircraft, roared above them towards Jonathan’s home as the family flew away. Even though they’re flying at such high speeds large blue eyes can make out the shape of people jumping out of the enormous plane and descending upon the now flaming town. He’s screaming. Jon doesn’t know why but he is. He can feel his mother’s hands caress his face in an attempt to calm him down as his father tries to readjust him so he wouldn’t have to see anything more but it was already too late. 

Jon saw his home burn to the ground.

After half an hour the family arrives in Gotham where Superman tells them it’s safe. Jon almost wants to laugh because it’s a funny world to be in when Gotham City New Jersey is safer than Hamilton County. He doesn’t but he really wants to. It’s weird that it took so long to get here but Jon assumes it’s because his father was carrying them and their stuff. Jon sees Krypto and Supergirl catch up to them holding what seems to be a black gym bag of the family’s belongings and somber looks on their faces. 

“Supergirl, what does the situation look like back there?” Superman asks in an authoritative tone.

The blonde woman sighs, petting Jon’s hair, as she reports, “Not good. Batman and Martian Manhunter found an entire high tech tunnel system underneath the town coated in lead. Every single house but yours was connected to it.”

“Even the cat lady?” Lois asks with a small bit of amusement even though she’s exhausted. 

“Even the cat lady,” Kara repeats affirmatively. “I’m so sorry about your home.”

The brunette sighs as she leans into the crook of her husband’s neck as the wind blows through her hair. “It’s alright. I always did say I wanted to move closer to the city.”

“Lois.”

“What? You’re the one always telling me I gotta look on the bright side of things.”

The man smiles as he looks down at his child who has tired himself out with his own screaming. He’s not asleep but he’s close to losing consciousness completely. Jon looks right back at him with tears in his eyes but no noise as they reach their destination; The Wayne Family Manor. The five of them go through the back entrance to the Batcave as stealthily as they can where they are greeted by Alfred and Batgirl, who Jon can now recognize as Cassandra. 

“I’m terribly sorry we have to meet again like this Superman.” The butler somberly greets with a slight bow as he takes some of the luggage out of the family’s hands. 

“Thank you, Alfred,” Superman responds exhausted. “Do you have everything covered here? I need to go back and help-”

The old British man holds up his palm effectively halting the superhero’s words as he reveals important information. “Now, while I would rather you and the rest of your family get settled down in the guest chambers and recuperate from your harrowing experience I’m afraid that we must take immediate medical action.”

“I already used my x-ray vision to make sure no one was hurt.” The Kryptonian explains.

“I’m not referring to broken bones or scrapes on the knees. Batman has informed me that they have contaminated the milk supply.”

The family gasps, minus Jon who still has no idea what’s going on. Lois holds her throat with a paling expression as she pants out a breathless, “No…” while staring at her son in horror.

Solemnly Alfred nods his head in confirmation as he gestures for Batgirl to prepare the med-bay. “I apologize for being the harbinger of bad news. Do not fret, we will make sure everything will go smoothly and speedily. Dr. Tompkins is on her way right now.”

“So that’s why Batman told me to leave…” Supergirl whispers to herself as she watches Cassandra pullover machines to an examination table while Tim, for some reason in a more red version of his Robin attire, walks up to take their stuff to a scanner. 

“Oh Gods, Damian and Dick and Bruce and you! You all ate and drank stuff with the milk in it!” Superman cries wadding his free hand through his hair. “Alfred what about our parents and Lana! Or- or Lucy?! We invited them over before-”

“Do not blame yourself, everyone will also be treated in due time. No one could have possibly predicted this outcome. We will take action to test and help them as we can but you five have had the most exposure and need to be taken care of immediately.” Alfred explains reaching for the bundled up child in the large male’s arms. “Do you mind if I take young Jonathan to be examined first?”

Shaking his head the man holds his son closer to his body while also giving the Butler an understanding look. “Of course, but if you don’t mind I’d rather take him there myself.”

The man nods approvingly as he leads the child to the table and watches as the Man of Steel does his best to whisper encouraging and positive words to the boy. Cassandra takes out a baby blue hospital gown from a draw and hands it to Jon’s father. He changes Jon into the new clothes while the child silently stares at everything, trying to take in what’s happening to him. He sees Alfred hold an incredibly large green-tipped needle and the boy immediately panics trying to get off of the table and back into his father’s arms.

“Dad! Daddy no! I don’t want it!” Shrieks staring at the thick needle.

“Jon, Sport, it’s going to be alright. Daddy’s here. I’m right here Jon and it won’t hurt much. Just stay still for Mr. Pennyworth and focus on me.” Clark soothes brushing his son’s hair with his fingertips as Lois picks up the giraffe onesie off of the ground. “Mommy and Daddy are right here to make sure you’re fine.”

Cassandra walks up with a gas tank attached to a blue anesthesia face mask and stares at Jonathan’s mother silently. Lois nods and takes the silicone device from her hands with a curt, “Thank you.” She rubs soothing circles on her son’s back telling him that he’s going to be fine before putting the mask over his face. He keeps trying to ask what’s wrong with him but Jon’s not able to get the words out before his vision gets blurry and he blacks out.

When he wakes back to reality Jon’s in his booster seat next to a very tired Damian who is simply looking out the window of the truck with no interest whatsoever. Confused, the child looks around to see that a large Superman blanket has been put over him and that he’s wearing his Superboy onesie. “Wha-”

“Welcome back,” Damian says, throwing a cold mini water bottle at him. “You’ve been under the sun for who knows how long. You must be thirsty.”

“I… What?” Jon sputters before realizing that he is incredibly hot and sweaty while his throat is bone dry. The child downs the entire 8-ounce bottle with an exaggerated gulp. “Holy cow I needed that!”

A hearty laugh from the front seat draws his attention to his father who is driving the truck with his glasses slightly tilted to the left wearing a tan baseball cap. “That’s what you get for dozing off in the car next to the window. I know it’s September but it’s still summer, Sport.”

“Wh… Where am I? Where are we? Weren’t we just in the Batcave?” The boy asks to the laughter of his mother. 

“Hahaha, man you must’ve had one heck of a dream.” She chortles with a wave. “Jon, we didn’t go to the Batcave.”

“Then why is Dami here?”

“Jonathan, we have these things called teleporters,” Damian replies with a snide attitude.

“Hey now, we don’t use that kind of tone in this car young man.” Clark scolds lightly as he changes lanes. “And Damian is here because we’re driving him to the picnic.”

“The what?”

“Go easy on him, he just woke up.” The brunette teases, slapping her husband on the shoulder. “You know, the Justice League Picnic. It’s an event the JLA holds every year before school starts so the families of heroes can have fun without having to hide their powers.”

Jon tilts his head confused trying to remember when he was told of this to suddenly remember that he was told this on Wednesday; today was Saturday! “Oh yeah…” 

“There we go. See, ya just gotta jog the memory a bit, Smallville.” 

“Yeah, yeah.” The man sighs glancing at the children through the rearview mirror. “We’re finally at Central City, kids! Jon, if you want to get a picture of the Central City Arch or the Flash Museum now would be the time!” 

Jonathan looks next to his seat to see a bulky blue Superman-themed camera with fat red rubber handles on the sides. He picks it up and pulls the lanyard around his neck as they drive through a brightly lit tunnel. On the other side, Jon immediately sees a white large ring-like structure towering over them as the words, “Welcome To Central City! HOME OF THE FLASH!” is written above them. Jon rolls open his window and sticks his head out of the side to take a picture of the edifice as fast humid winds blow past them. 

“Dami, this is so cool!”

Damian shrugs, obviously not impressed by the arch. “Gotham is better.”

Clark chuckles at the statement with an affectionate look. “Looks like Bruce is already trying to turn you into a full-blooded Gothamite.”

“If I’m going to be protecting it I might as well try to develop a fondness for it.”

Jon continues to take pictures of things with his camera only to find it already full before they even passed the Flash Museum. “Mom, my camera broke!” 

Lois takes a look at the camera before reaching into her bag and pulling out two rolls of film. “It’s not broken, Jon, it can only take 12 pictures at a time.” She takes out the old roll and puts in a new one while also handing the spare to her son. “Now don’t start going crazy with that wild trigger finger of yours; we only have two rolls left for your camera.”

“Okay, Mom!” Jon says taking the items from his mother and putting the spare film in his Superman bag he packed that morning. “So Dami, what do you wanna do first when we get there? I wanna hotdog! Do you think they’ll have hotdogs?”

“I’ll see what I’m able to consume when I get there,” Damian replies, turning to face his friend. “I’m more interested in the competition.”

“There’s a competition?” Jon asks wondering if he had forgotten something again after that weird dream he had.

Clark nearly swerves the car at the question while emerald eyes glare daggers at him via the mirror. “You didn’t tell him?”

“W-well It not that I… I was going to get around to it.” The older man sweats nervously much to the amusement of his wife. “I just didn’t think it was important to mention so soon. Jon is a bit too young to participate so it really wouldn’t have made a difference.”

“That’s ridiculous. He shall be participating with me.” Damian asserts authoritatively. 

“I don’t think that’s really necessary Damian. You can cheer on your family from the sidelines.” The farmer tries to comfort but only succeeds in making the billionaire child’s mood worsen. 

Damian shakes his head and smiles at Damian in a menacing manner asking, “You’ll be my partner for the game, right Jonathan?”

Not understanding he was being threatened and honestly really wanting to play games with his friend he delightfully answers, “Of course I will! Games are more fun when you’re playing them with friends!”

Clark tiredly shakes his head at the children celebrating in the back as he chooses to focus on driving instead. He drives deep into the heart of Central City into an inconspicuous parking garage where he drives to the lowest basement floor until the only light around them is coming from the headlights of the truck. It’s a bit spooky in a really cool way but Jon tries to look over his father’s head to see where they could be going. Once they get to the bottom floor they boys notice that the truck is still going in a straight line when it clearly should be hitting a wall by now because the parking garage didn’t look any larger than normal ones.

While in the darkness Damian grabs onto Jon’s right upper arm to correct his attention to out Damian’s window to another car, more like a minivan, is driving beside them. They two can vaguely make out the appearance of about six kids inside of varying ages but that’s all they can see. Then light shines into the truck from the back to reveal another car, another van, driving up from behind them swerving a lot more than the other two cars. 

Lois notices this and laughs as she signals for Clark to move over while opening her window. The moment she does Jon hears various people screaming telling whoever was driving to slow down. Jonathan’s mom sticks her head out of the window and playfully asks, “Did Bart finally get his learner’s permit?”

They couldn’t see who answered but the voice of an incredibly cheery adult male shout back, “Yes, and they need to take it back!”

“Aw come on grandpa, not in front of Superman!” A voice Jon kind of recognizes replies as the vehicle speeds off into int distance and out of sight. 

When Jon looks back at his father he does indeed see that he’s in full Superman mode, cape and all while they weren’t looking. He doesn’t question this and chalks it up to superspeed as he watches Damian put on his green domino mask. He looks to his mother who hasn’t done anything to conceal her identity. “Mom, do you have a mask?”

Lois rolls her eyes with a smirk as she reaches for over the dashboard and puts her husband’s glasses. “There, that’s all the masking I need.”

Satisfied, the seven-year-old leans back into his seat and watches as the car drives farther into the dark tunnel until a bright light meets them at the end. The children and Lois shield their eyes as sunlight washes over them. When Jon’s eyes finally adjust to the sudden change in brightness he looks around to find that they’re in a clearing that reminds him of the one with his treehouse, but significantly bigger.

Like HUGE.

There was even a freaking lake.

Also, the fact it was filled to the brim with superheroes.

Clark parks the truck on a dirt parking area close to the entrance and gets out of the car to unbuckle his son while Lois opens the door for Damian, who has somehow put on his entire Robin costume. The two go to the bed of the truck to take out the picnic basket, blanket, and cooler before leaving to find a spot to set everything up. As soon as Jon’s Heelys hit the ground he runs off to follow his mom and friend only to be quickly stopped by his father. 

“Woah there Sport, before we join them let’s make sure that we remember the rules.” The man says handing Jonathan his novelty backpack. “First, rule?”

Jon racks his brain to remember what they went over this morning and smiles when he does. “No real names!”

“Good, gotta protect everyone’s secret identities after all, even if they don’t have one. Next?”

“Um… Don’t leave the picnic area.”

“ Excellent. Okay, last rule?”

“Uh… I… Oh yeah, be nice to everyone!”

“Great job, _Superboy_.” Superman congratulates ruffling Jonathan’s messy hair. “As a reward for being a terrific listener, I’ll pull you to the picnic spot!”

The child cheers with joy as he hands his father the detachable rope (leash) on his backpack and lifts the balls of his feet up while he begins to be led away into the clearing. From the corner of his eyes, Jon can see the minivan park a few feet away and six voices simultaneously shouting, “SHAZAM!” before loud lighting strikes the vehicle causing six costume-clad adults to fly out of the car and two normally dressed adults to cover their ears. Superman waves to the couple inside who wave back as they put on some homemade superhero masks that look to be constructed out of paper and crayons. 

Jon sees more people flying, running, and walking around them who are all wearing superhero costumes. Some of the costumes are obviously not real costumes but representations of who’s family they’re a part of. Suddenly a trash can lid nearly hits Jon in the head if it wasn’t for his father catching it in time. Superman frisbees it back to its owner, a black teenager with dreadlocks wearing a lot of blue and black, shouting back, “You’re aim needs some work, Static!”

“Sorry, Superman!” The teen shouts back catching it and running back to an older man and young woman wearing similar, but less professional attire. 

Now that Jon has a chance to look around there are a lot of superheroes with the lightning bolt symbol… what a weird coincidence. Everyone is also staring at Jon and his father walking by in awe. It makes sense because even though Superman is Jon’s father he still gets a bit awestruck by the man especially since he hasn’t seen him in the suit since he found out. 

“Wow, Dad, everyone is staring at you!”

The man laughs and pulls his son along a bit faster. “Actually, they’re looking at you, Sport.”

Jon’s brain does a hard stop at those words, “What?”

“Well, this is the first time I’m bringing you. Most people don’t even know I have… at least not until now.”

“Wow…” he breathes not knowing how to process that information but thankfully he doesn’t have to as his attention is taken away by four extremely fast men of varying ages speeding past him in one continuous red blur. “Holy cow Dad was that the Flash!?”

“It sure was,” Superman replies as he meets up with Lois and Damian who have finished setting up the picnic area under the tree and close to an expansive fenced-off field. It was separated from the rest of the families by a simple white barn fence like the one at Jon’s home. 

When his father releases him he walks up to Damian, who is leaning over the wooden structure with his feet dangling in the breeze, and does the same after a few tries. “Whatcha’ doin’ Da- I mean Robin?” 

The child scowls into the distance and Jon swears that the air got a bit colder when he answers, “Observing the battlefield.”

“The… Oh yeah, the competition!” The younger boy clarifies to himself as he looks out as well. The area is larger than the football field he has seen on TV but it isn’t anything to write home about. “So… If I have to call you Robin what do I call your brother Robin?”

“-Tt- That false heir is no brother of mine,” Damian growls sharply turning his head at Jonathan. “And I don’t care what you call him as long as it’s not Robin.”

“Okay!” Jon agrees already trying to come up with a list of names he should call Tim. “Speaking of brothers-”

“Not my brother. I have no brothers.”

“Where are they?”

Damian clicks his tongue again in annoyance as he replies, “They didn’t want me to be seen with them, obviously.”

That’s when Superman butts into the conversation with a concerned tone. “Robin, that is definitely not why they didn’t want you coming along with them.”

“That’s absurd. Why else would my father insist that I not accompany him and his wards?” The boy scoffs, turning around off the fence to face the man sitting on the checkered blanket. 

Superman does his best to reserve his grin as he explains the real reason he couldn’t come along with his family. “Bats, at least the active ones, are banned from showing up before the competition starts. They are only allowed to be here an hour before at the earliest.”

“Why is that?” Jon asks.

Superman hums as he tries to find the best way to explain the reasoning to the two children. “Well… If I recall correctly they play a bit… dirty.”

“They’re freaking cheaters, that’s what they are!” A new voice calls out to reveal a caucasian man with short wavy hazel hair wearing a green uniform. 

“Hi, Green Lantern.” Superman greets.

“Just call me Hal, there are two other Green Lanterns here and if we stick by the name thing then we’re all going to get confused.” The man groans slouching forward. “Heard you’re finally bringing the non-super half of the family here? Ya sure he’s ready for it?”

“I don’t know, how about you ask him?” Jon’s father asks gesturing to the awestruck boy who is gawking at the man.

“HOLY COW YOU’RE GREEN LANTERN!” He screeches, hopping off of the fence and running up to him. “I CAN’T BELIEVE IT!”

“I guess he couldn’t hold it in any longer.” Lois teases at the expense of her child.

“GREEN LANTERN IS HERE! D- I mean… ROBIN, IT’S GREEN LANTERN!” Jon shouts at his friend, who has to cover his ears, before reaching into his bag and pulling out a Justice League autograph book his parents bought him from Six Flags. “Can I have your autograph?”

Hal smiles at the child and takes the book from his hand and pulls out the pen attached to the booklet happily signing it for the child. He hands it back to the boy and sticks out his palm for a high-five, which the boy gleefully obliges to. “There ya go kiddo, your first superhero autograph.”

“Thank you!”

Damian sighs and pushes the younger boy out of the way to get in the Lantern's face. “Now that the pleasantries are out of the way, do you mind explaining what you were saying earlier?”

“Uh…” The man looks at the boy clearly imitating Robin with a perplexed expression before looking back at Superman. “What happened to the, ‘no Bats before noon’ rule?”

“He’s a civilian, Hal. He’s allowed to be here early even though he’s clearly one of Batman’s.” Lois answers while Clark takes a ham sandwich out of her hands. “Besides, he’s only ten.”

“Are you going to explain your reasoning to me or do I have to get my answers through other methods?” The young boy hisses, clearly not taking too kindly to being ignored. 

“Charming.” Green Lantern drones standing back up. “Well… Robin? Robin, your family doesn’t play well with others. They used to come in early and sabotage the field with traps and try to pit everyone against each other so that their team could win. It was unfair, but then we changed the competition from families competing against each other to teams competing against each other; it’s still like that now. We thought that dividing up everyone that way would make things fairer especially since they’ve split up now.” 

“You’re all fools.” Damian states seeing where this story was headed.

The man sighs in agreement. “Yeah, we found that out pretty quickly. We thought they were vicious working together, but it’s much worse when they’re fighting against each other. Hell, they had to sign an honest to god contract with each term that no grudges or groundings were allowed for any actions taken in the game; They even got a notary to make it official. After that specific competition, we had to ban them from showing up early.”

“Mm… I see I have much to learn.” The youngest Wayne admits trying to comprehend what level of catastrophe could have caused over a hundred heroes and their families to simultaneously agree to a restriction on a single clan. 

“It’s better if you don’t.” Hal says waving to the four of them and turning on his heel. “It’s almost noon and Ca- I mean Star Sapphire is waiting for me in our area. See you guys soon!”

The Kents wave goodbye to the retreating man while Damian glares daggers at him from behind his mask. Jon looks at the signature in his small book before remembering that his dad never signed it! “Dad, sign my book!”

Superman signs his son’s autograph book while Lois makes a plate of sandwiches for the kids so they won’t be too hungry before the game. While the children eat their sandwiches Jon talks to Damian about his plans to get as many autographs as possible before the competition while the other boy lazily chimes in with the occasional grunt. They soon get on the topic of the competition where Superman has to stop them as he obviously doesn’t want them participating. It’s clear that the two weren’t going to back down anytime soon, so he just warns them that they should be prepared for the inevitable disappointment they’re going to face when they find out what the game are like.

When the boys are finished with their meal they excuse themselves so that Jonathan can go get more autographs while Damian joins him to gather reconnaissance on his enemies. The two could barely move without stepping onto the blankets of other superheroes and their families. Before they even left the shade of their tree Jonathan already got the autographs of 23 different heroes, most of whom he didn’t know the names of. He probably also got some non-superhero autographs mixed up in there but that didn’t matter as much as the fact that his book is almost full. 

“Superboy, I don’t know why you’re so insistent on attaining the signatures of every colorful hero you come across.” Damian states as Jon takes his book back from Black Lightning.

“Cause heroes are cool!” The brightly dressed child replies after thanking the man and moving on to the next hero blanket. “Hi, I’m Superboy! Can you sign my book?”

A blonde woman in black leather and a man dressed as Robin Hood sitting atop a green picnic blanket look up at the children with a grin, and happily take the book from Jon’s hands to sign. “Superboy, huh? You Superman’s little cousin?” The man with the bow asks as he finishes signing his name into the book. 

“Nope! Superman is my dad!” Jon chirps rolling back and forth on the balls of his feet. 

The blonde woman stops autographing to look at her partner with an astonished expression on her face and receives one back before the two gawk at Jon. “Superman had a son?”

“Yeah! It’s really weird but awesome!” He answers.

She finishes signing the book and hands it back to Jonathan before excusing herself and walking over to where Superman and Lois were sitting while the man continues to stare at the boy. The pair moves on to the next picnic blanket where Jon recognizes the red-head in the familiar red and white suit. “Hi Impulse!” Jon greets the teen who was nervously back eyeing the angry child glaring at him from behind Jon.

“H-hey Superboy…” He replies trying to retain his cheerful demeanor while holding his place on his chest where he was stabbed. “Lemme introduce ya to the family!” The young hero rattles off the names of the people next to him but honestly, he was speaking way too fast for Jonathan to comprehend. Instead of asking the teenager to repeat himself he just quietly handed him the autograph book to pass around to his fellow heroes. 

“Impulse, aren’t you going to introduce us to these two boys?” A man in a yellow flash uniform and red hair presses as he looks at them. 

“Oh, right! Guys, this is Superboy and…” He pauses as he gestures to the taller child staring into his soul, realizing he doesn’t know his name.

“Robin.” Damian finishes for him.

The group gives each other uncertain gazes at the name before shrugging it off. “I guess this is Little Robin.” Impulse concludes with a snarky grin.

Furious, the child immediately goes red in the face and stomps his foot down at the insulting name shouting, “I am not LITTLE ROBIN! I am the true heir to the Robin mantel and blood son of the Ba-”

“Woah there Little Robin,” Flash interrupts as he hands Jon back his autograph book. “Blood son? Like, he didn’t pick you off the streets cause of his orphan addiction?”

“I’m not one of my father’s pathetic inferior wards. My genetics are made of the finest pedigree aligning with both my father, the Batman, and my mother.” Damian beams with pride as he elaborates on his superiority. 

“You use a lot of big words.” Jon states after listening to his friend.

“Superboy, the way I speak around you in your language is formal and not even advanced yet you still fail to comprehend half of what I say.”

“So it gets worse than this?”

“I’m sorry, can we go back to the fact that Batman, Mr. Dark & Broody, was able to find a woman to stand him long enough to have a kid? Is Bat married?” Flash questions holding his head trying to wrap his mind around the idea.

“Father’s marital status is none of your concern. Come along Superboy.” Damian commands snapping his fingers and sauntering away with Jonathan following closely behind. 

The two are only able to get three more heroes before the book is filled, with the last person able to fit their name in being a woman who looks kind of like Wonder Woman but younger and in a shiny black outfit. According to her autograph, her name is Troia. Jon flips through his book disappointed that he could fit more than 40 signatures in his book but happy that he was able to get it filled so fast. He lets out an exaggerated disappointed sigh while glancing at his friend who clearly wasn’t paying attention to him. Damian is still watching the faces of the heroes around him closely, still trying to gather information on them, paying special attention to the entrance they’re next to where vehicles are still entering. Pouting, the half-Kryptonian nudges his friend in the shoulder when he’s tackled to the ground forcefully by the older boy seemingly out of nowhere. Jon tries to push him off but Damian is too heavy for the child to shove. Also, are those abs Jon is feeling; What kind of ten-year-old has abs?

Now knowing that he can’t free himself he looks over Damian’s back to nothing alarming of note. Usually, when the boy does something weird he has a reason behind it, so the fact that there was no reason to tackle him into the dirt makes no sense. Or at least it didn’t until he felt the ground shake profusely and people rushing towards the direction of the commotion. It was exactly 8 seconds of pure chaos when a dark shadow towers over them from their place on the ground and silences the crowd. Dust clouds obscure Jon’s vision as he’s freed from the weight on him and pulled up by Damian. The two dust themselves off and face the monstrous vehicle directly parked next to them. 

It was completely black with sharp jagged edges covering the exterior. It had thick treads taller than the two boy’s height combined and the only amount of color on it was the reflective silver shine of the Bat-Symbol gleaming off the hood. This vehicle was no mear car but a full-on tank completely with a big cannon at the top. The side door of the Bat-Tank opens up and a plume of cold smoke pour out onto the lot to reveal only the whites of eyes staring out at them. It would have been intimidating, scary even, if it wasn’t immediately followed by an explosion of scarlet glitter and atrociously loud early 2010’s pop music.

_California girls_

_We're unforgettable_

_Daisy dukes_

_Bikinis on top_

_Sun-kissed skin_

_So hot_

_We'll melt your popsicle_

_Ooh oh ooh~_

_Ooh oh ooh~_

“Uuuuhhhhhh…” Jon looks at his friend who is quickly becoming more disillusioned by his family by the second and holding his face in his hands. The seven-year-old leans in to see if he can hear what he’s muttering but doesn’t understand much of it. 

“Why mother must you have left me alone here? Is this some sort of punishment for a sin I unknowingly committed? I’d rather be locked in the dungeons than be subjected to this level of shame upon my bloodline.”

While Damian was regretting everything he has ever done in his life the music cuts off while all four of the remaining Waynes run out of the tank and fall to their knees coughing up glitter. Batman himself meanwhile is completely unscathed, not even an ounce of shiny plastic on his cowl, and walks up to the two children.

“...Hm.”

“Father.” Damian greets back knowing what his father is saying to him.

“Um… Hi Mr. W- I mean- Batman, what… Why?” Jon says doing his best to comprehend the sight of the four people looking like they’re on the wrong end of a Christmas crafts project. 

“That’s on a need to know basis.” The vigilante grunts and walks past them quickly but close enough to see he’s holding a really fancy black-cloth picnic basket; very different from the wooden one Jon’s family brought.

He turns back to Damian’s siblings who are starting to recompose themself and walk over to help them up only to be pulled back by the boy next to him. “Don’t come any closer, it could be contagious.”

“Da- Robin, are you talking about the glitter?” Jon asks as he sees him glare at the offending red particles. “It’s just glitter. The worse it will do is get stuck everywhere.”

“That’s the problem, Superboy. Father has already begun sabotaging his own charges to get ahead in the game. With that stuff on them, they’ll be even easier to track and leave trails on everything they come into contact with.” He explains stepping backward with Jon in tow.

“Nice theory Demon Brat but this wasn’t B, it was Nightwing who did this to us.” Jason, who is wearing a red helmet that’s covering his entire face, coughs out before yanking off the headgear and dumping out all the glitter that got stuck inside. “Way to go Dickhead!”

“Little Wing, I said I was sorry!” Nightwings cries out expelling another batch of glitter from his lungs. 

Tim is the first to stand up, patting himself down to get most of the shiny stuff off his uniform, and glaring at his eldest brother. “This is why you’re not the tech guy!” Batgirl, who is probably Cassandra if Jon’s assumption is correct, grunts in agreement and doesn’t move from her spot in the dirt; opting to lay face down in the shadow as if time will get the glitter off her faster. 

“Nightwing, what were you trying to accomplish making yourself an easier target?” Damian asks, now looking as confused as Jon feels.

“It’s called a dramatic entrance. Well, it would have been if I got blue glitter and didn’t use the Bat-Bazooka as an impromptu glitter cannon.” The hero of Blüdhaven whines standing up.

“I thought we banned you from naming shit after the Bat-Washing Machine incident.” Jason groans, also standing up and putting his helmet back on. 

“We promised that we wouldn’t speak of it ever again!” The man walks over to Jon and Damian, who maintain a good 6 feet of distance away from him to not get the craft supply on them, and greets the two. “Hello there Superboy and… Uh…”

“ROBIN! I’m Robin!” Damian shouts incessantly balling his fists at the eldest hesitance. 

With a conviving smirk, Nightwing puts his hands on his hips and shakes his head, more charmed than threatened by the display before him. “There’s already a Robin, Lil’ buddy.”

“Well make him get a new name because I’m Robin!” The child demands, glaring at Grayson.

“I vote for Demon Brat.” Jason pipes up raising his hand.

“I second this vote!” Tim readily agrees while helping his sister up who also raises a silent hand in support. 

“Impulse called him Little Robin.”Jonathan helpfully pipes much up to the amusement of Damian’s siblings. 

“Awww~!” They coos while nodding their heads in agreement.

“SUPERBOY YOU TRAITOR!” Damian hollers yanking the child away from the vigilantes by hand and towards where his father left. “I cannot believe you would embarrass me in such a manner. No, actually I don’t know what I was thinking believing that you wouldn’t do such a thing to me!”

“It’s just a name Dami.”

“No names of the field!” 

“Robin,” Superboy corrects himself with an annoyed tone while rolling his eyes. “It’s just a name. Besides you’re not officially Robin yet so-”

“It doesn’t matter! The name Little Robin is completely juvenile and deliberately mocking me!” He shouts back as they arrive at a shady area at the edge of the clearing next to the forest. 

Superboy frowns at the discomposed boy and apologizes for making him mad. “I’m sorry, Robin. I didn’t mean to make you upset.”

The older child huffs and grumbles an acceptance to his apology then looks to his father who is standing silently holding the basket. He sets it down on the ground and steps back a few feet after pushing a button on the handle. The basket begins to fold out and expand into a stand-up canopy with a remarkably slim metal picnic table inside. As soon as the structure has completed building itself the Gotham hero sits at the table and pulls out several lunchboxes from underneath the seats. He hands a container with a green lid to Damian as he sits down next to his father, Jon sitting along as his hand is still being held. 

Jon nervously glances at the intimidating figure only a mere two feet away from him and wonders how this scary quiet man is the same person he’s met so many times before. Mr. Wayne, while not the most talkative adult he’s ever met, smiles, and always makes sure to greet him politely. He would openly ask how Damian was doing and take in interest in what’s around him. This man, the Batman, was quiet. 

He didn’t talk, he didn’t smile, and he didn’t seem like a pleasant person to be around. It’s weird to think that he was the same person the boy kind of gotten to know a little bit over the weeks. With one hand Damian opens the green plastic box to find, what Jon thinks, is a salad and a really thin fluffy taco. He begins to eat the taco with his free hand with a pleased hum causing Jon to feel hungry seeing as the sandwich didn’t appear to fill him up.

“Hey Robin, can I try some of your taco?” He asks, pointing at it.

The masked child stops mid-bite and stares at the brightly colored boy confusingly. He looks to the meal in his hand then back at Jonathan as if trying his best not to facepalm. Damian swallows the food in his mouth and puts the taco down to fully face Jon. “Superboy, I’m not eating a taco. This is a falafel pita sandwich.”

“So it’s not a taco?”

“No.”

“Can I try it?” Jon tries asking again.

Without verbally answering the boy hands him the second falafel pita as he continues to eat the one he already started on. Eagerly the half Kryptonian precedes to shove the sandwich into his mouth and chews only to stop as the taste hits his tongue. It’s not terrible or by any sense of the word, but it’s… different. He’s never had anything like it before and he can’t tell if he likes it or not. There are a lot of textures and flavors that he doesn’t think he likes and doesn’t think he could heat an entire plate if someone were to put it in front of him. He likes the crunchy stuff in the sandwich and that gets him to finish the rest of it but he thinks the sauce is what makes him not like it.

“I can see by your vacillating reaction that you didn’t find it all too appetizing,” Damian announces as he finishes his own food and moves onto the salad. 

Feeling guilty for taking his friend’s food and didn’t even enjoy it he tries to reassure him that it was the opposite. “I- It was good-”

“I can tell you’re lying to me.” He interrupts not even having to look at Jonathan to tell. “It’s a rather silly thing to try to cover-up.”

Pouting, the boy murmurs out a weak apology bowing his head down towards his lap. “Sorry…” 

At that moment the rest of the siblings meet up at the table and have a seat at the table as Batman hands each of them their respective color-coded lunchboxes. The group was still trailing glitter but the worst of it seemed to have brushed off by now. They all opened their meals and chatted among themselves while the two youngest boys stayed quiet together. Jon stares at Tim, who is talking to his sister, inquisitively now that he is able to do so in peace. Tim is Robin and therefore wears the iconic red, green, and yellow suit that goes along with it. 

He watches the teenager intensely knowing that there’s something off about his appearance, but can’t tell what. He thinks it might be another wrong assumption he has because of his blackout but he doesn’t remember having a blackout recently. Then he recalls the events of earlier when he fell asleep in the car. Did he actually fall asleep or was it another vision? But he doesn’t usually remember his visions.

But he remembered this dream.

Kinda.

Everything was still a bit blurry but if he remembered correctly, which he does, Hamilton county burned down and he was taken to the Batcave because of… milk. Now that Jon thinks about it he does remember packing some of the milk from Kathy’s farm in the family cooler. The onesie wearing child leaves his seat to go grab it when he gets caught partway through his movement. 

Damian squints at him through the white lenses of his mask and holds his hands tighter but not asking a question with no more than his body language. Jonathan answers with a small smile and a silent promise to come back soon. The hand loose and the child sprints off back to his parents’ picnic spot to see them talking with the blonde couple on the green blanket from earlier. He quickly greets them before kneeling down towards the cooler and picking up the sealed glass bottle.

“Where ya going, Jon?” Lois questions turning away from her conversation with Black Canary.

“I’m going to meet Dami- I mean Robin’s family!” Jon answers clutching the bottle against his chest where it clanks against the toy camera hanging off his neck.

“Is milk all you’re going to bring?” Superman asks rifling through the woven picnic basket for a bag of superhero-themed fruit gummies and handing them to his son. “Here, take these while you’re at it.”

Jon takes the colorful snack from his father’s hands and tanks him hurriedly before running back to the edge of the clearing, doing his best not to step on anyone’s blanket on the way. He’s almost there when the Son of Superman realizes that he didn’t really have a plan for what to do with the condensation covered bottle when he gets there. Absentmindedly while contemplating his next move he opens the bottle and drinks half of it out of pure habit before realizing what he’s done. He holds it away from his lips and reseals it hoping that if it was contam… contam… CONTAMINATED; That’s the word he was looking for! He hopes that if it was contaminated with something it wouldn’t be deadly. 

He should probably tell someone that it’s contaminated. He goes through his options in his mind and settles on telling Robin, the real one, because he was in his dream vision thing and he also understands his blackouts. He moves closer and stares at the family eating at the table and carefully does his best to approach them. 

Too bad they're a family full of detectives.

They all notice Jon’s strange unnatural movements and nervous demeanor the moment he comes into view and turns their heads sharply to bore into Jonathan’s soul with their whited out eyes. He freezes with his knees shaking under the weight of their stares but steels himself to walk up to Tim, much to the displeasure of Damian if his hardening scowl is anything to go by. He opens his mouth to tell Robin about the milk but remembers that he’s not supposed to call him that due to Damian being Robin. He scrunches up his face in thought trying to think of a new name to refer to Tim by when one flashes into his mind.

“Red Robin,” Jon says aloud pointing to the young teenage boy.

The boy wonder doesn’t react any differently to the name other than the matching confused looks he shares with his family. He excuses himself from the table and leads Jon into the woods, Jason meanwhile jokingly shouts for him not to go kidnapping him again. As he leaves the canopy the child can see his friend being held back by his father out of the corner of his eye. They get to a far enough distance where they can talk privately, but close enough they can see most of the picnic.

Robin- er, Red Robin crouches down to Jonathan’s height and gazes directly into Jonathan’s blue eyes. He exhales through his nose and begins the conversation by apologizing for their previous interaction. “Before we do anything I have to apologize for what happened last time we met. I was so sleep deprived I swear I thought I could see sound.”

“That’s okay, you can borrow me anytime!”

“Jon no.”

“Oh, okay.”

“Now that, that’s out of the way,” Tim sighs then gets serious and his voice becomes an incredibly soft whisper. “How do you know that name? Was it a vision?” 

Jonathan cocks his head to the side wondering if it was a vision before shaking his head. “No, I don’t think so; it just came into my mind.”

“I see.” The teen says slowly examining the child’s face for any indication he’s lying.

“But that’s why I wanted to talk to you!” Jonathan whispers loudly slamming the bottle of milk into the boy’s sternum. “I think I finally remember a vision and this milk is con… poisoned. I think it’s poisoned.”

“What?!”

“Yeah, in my dream- but it wasn’t a dream, Batman said that the milk in my town was poisoned!”

“How long have you known this?” 

The child holds out three fingers to signify the amount of time that has passed by since he woke up from the dream. “About three hours.”

“And why does it look like someone recently drank from this bottle?”

“Oh, that’s because I drank it, like, two minutes ago.”

“...” Red Robin slaps his own forehead and picks up Jonathan as he stands up at his hip like a football and walks out of the forest with the glass of milk in hand. He speeds past the Bat-clan’s picnic table and straight towards the parking lot with one of the members following them but Jon can’t tell who it is due to the position he’s being carried in. Tim opens the door to the Bat-tank and sits Jonathan down on the least glittery seat inside. The inside of the tank is not as spacious as he was expecting it to be from the way it appears on the outside. The vigilante presses several buttons on a complex looking console in the back of the tank and a slot pops out of the top like one of those tubes Jon sees at banks. Tim opens the bottle and places it into the slot before slamming it back down with his fists. 

He turns to Jon, reaching into a compartment on the side of the console and pulls out a long green-tipped needle similar to the one the boy saw in his dream but extremely thin. He rips off Jonathan’s red rubber kitchen glove and rolls the cotton sleeve of his arm up to begin providing the child for a vein on antecubital space while handing him a rather adorable Robin plushie. Uncapping the needle Tim sighs and commands Jon to, “Don’t move, keep your heartbeat calm, and hold the toy tightly.”

The boy didn’t even have time to respond as the needle was instantly injected into his arm, quickly drawing out a small amount of his blood then taking it out. Jon wasn’t afraid of needles, giant needles are terrifying but regular needles were fine; he was more interested in the fact that his skin healed up almost immediately. Tim puts the vial full of his blood into a separate slot in the console and stands Jon up to lead him out of the dark tank. On the outside of the vehicle, Batman looms over the two of them and stares at his son with an inquisitive expression.

“I’ll fill you in after the picnic.” Tim says in a robotic manner.

“Hm.” The man grunts satisfied with the answer and walks inside the vehicle to most likely get a better grasp of what’s going on. 

Tim and Jon walk the opposite direction back to the picnic table where Damian was silently simmering with rage while being held in Richard’s lap. The teen sets Jon in the seat next to them and heads to the opposite side of the table back to his own meal. Jason turns to his younger brother with a sly grin and teases, “You had one job and it was to not go and kidnap Superman’s son again, but what do you do? Ya kidnap him again!”

“I didn’t.”

“Sure ya didn’t.”

Damian, seeing as his elder brother refuses to let him go, turns to his younger companion with a sharp glare. “Are you going to tell me what that was about?”

Jon is about to explain but Tim interrupts him saying, “It’s a personal concern.”

“The same one you took him for previously?”

“Yep.”

“I got a plushie!” Jon announces seeing the building tension between the two youngest Wayne siblings holding up the beady eye’s doll.

“Is that supposed to be an imitation of that hack?” Damian asks, glaring at the offending object in his hands.

“I think it is.”

As the words leave his mouth the older child rips the toy from his hands and tears it’s head off. Then rips its arms out of its fluffy torso before grabbing the legs and spreading them in opposite directions until its body is ripped in half. Blues eyes sadly stare at the remains of the adorable toy that he posed for a few minutes only to see meet a gruesome demise. Jon whimpers at the destroyed remains of his toy left in tatters on the grass beneath them before Damian announces that he’ll buy him a replacement. 

Jon nods even though he’s still slightly upset by the cruel death of his toy and eats his fruit gummies to help him feel better. Everyone eventually gets finished with their food and cleans up their area exactly at 12:59 PM. The table is surrounded by an atmosphere of anxiousness and anticipation as each sibling, except for Damian, creepily smile at each other for an entire minute until an obnoxiously loud horn signals through the entire area and a robotic voice echoes through the area.

The half-Kryptonian cannot for the life of him understand a single word being said as the speaker quality isn’t that great, and muffled by the uproar of voices from nearly every single hero and their families as they all make their way over the white picket fence by any means possible. Jonathan and Damian stare at each other as they are thrown about amidst the discord as each of Batman’s wards throw themselves out of their seat and make a beeline for the game grounds except for Jason, who stares at the children intensely, leaning his elbows forward on the tabletop. 

“Last chance to back out of the competition.” He says as he waits for their answers.

Damian humps and turns his chin at the man in the red helmet and brown leather jacket. “Of course we’re not forfeiting a chance to compete against established heroes and prove our worth.”

“I just wanna play games!” Jon replies, throwing his hands up excitedly.

He sighs despondently then holds his forehead while shaking it side to side. He stands from his seat and walks over to the other side of the table to grab the children’s hands and walks them over to the field. There were four groups crowded around together to signify which team they’re on. From what Jon can recognize the competition is compromised between the: Justice League, Titans, Young Justice, and the last group he doesn’t know the name of. 

The three of them stop at the last group of people made up of people Jon doesn’t know where everyone stares at them. Jason flips a switch on the side of his helmet that distorts his voice to a deeper tone and turns around to face the colorful cast behind him. The group ceases their idle chitchatting and turns their attention to Jason and the children. Clearing his throat Jason proudly speaks out as he gestures to the team

“Okay brats, welcome to The Outlaws.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Before anyone makes assumptions, no these are not even close to the normal Outlaws from Red Hood and the Outlaws. It has been stated that Jason is not in the vigilante business. It will be explained what this team is next chapter but I just wanted to make that clear now. 
> 
> Also, there is a surprising amount of Jason Todd in this story. I didn't realize that until I looked back at my chapter notes. I plan this story 10 to 15 chapters ahead and I didn't realize that there was so much Jason in the early story (Yes, almost 100k words and this is still only the beginning). If y'all saw my notes you'd be surprised just how far I thought ahead. This story is easily over 300K words AT LEAST. I'm not complaining but I just thought it was funny.
> 
> There will be more family cameos aside from the ones shown here! I just love wholesome superhero families.
> 
> The next chapter is the actual competition so look forward to that! Thanks for reading!


	10. Picnic Panic (Part 2)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The game has begun and the two boys are dedicated to being the ones to cause chaos among the masses.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for reading so far! This chapter is dedicated to me trying my freaking best to write with the least amount of thought possible and just have fun. This is because the next arch is extremely plot-heavy for here is some more fun! Sorry for any outrageous grammar errors in this chapter I do my best to catch them but I don't always get it.
> 
> Also, I clearly cannot keep a consistent upload schedule for the life of me so from now on just know the chapters will be out a week after the previous chapter AT THE LATEST.

The grassy field was large and full of costumed heroes for the most part. Sure there were family members who were not professionals but they were few and far between. The rest of the civilians and heroes that were not participating crowded around on the other side of the white barn fence early anticipating the beginning of the competition. There were a series of homemade banners hung along the border of the fence with brightly colored drawings and cheers for the hero it was made for. In the back where Jon remembers his parent’s blanket being set up he sees his mom, Krypto, and Kara wearing Superman hats and waving tiny flags. 

He wonders when more of his family showed up and wondering why his older cousin isn’t joining them for the game. He jogs up to the two women and dog happily and jumps on the lower railing of the barrier to greet them. 

“Hi Mom, Hi Ka-Supergirl, Hi Superdog!” He greets in rapid succession with a bright smile. The white labrador stands on his hind legs to licks the child’s face much to his giggly amusement while the two women greet him back. 

“Hi Superboy, heard ya gonna play.” The blond Kryptonian teases as she rests her head on her arms atop the fence to be eye level with her little cousin.

“Yeah! I love games and during field day last year I got first place when playing hacky sack so I think I have a good shot at winning!” He brags puffing his chest out in pride. “How come you’re not playing with us Supergirl?”

The young woman snorts at her young relative’s display of comical braggadocio and ruffles his hair. “I participate every year. It’s time to give the boys some time to shine for once, ya know?”

Lois rolls her eyes and adjusts her glasses at her cousin-in-law and rests her upper body on the fence on the other side of her son as she nudges the canine away from his face. “Supergirl and Red Hood aren’t allowed to participate at the same time and since she played last year she can’t do it this year.”

“Hey, what happened to girl power?” Kara bemoans in mock betrayal dramatically bending back with an arm on her forehead. 

“What happened to honesty?” Lois replies. 

“Who’s Red Hood?” Jon asks not knowing a hero by that name.

The full Kryptonian turns the pale boy’s head with the tips of her fingers and uses her other hand to point to Jason. “That’s Red Hood.”

“Why can’t you play together?” He questions seeing that the man isn’t doing anything out of the ordinary besides hyping his team up while being carried by a large monstrous version of his dad; he thinks his name is Bizarro but he can’t remember for sure.

“Well… It all started when I debuted as Supergirl when I was fifteen. Apparently, I stole the spotlight from him because he became Robin around the same time. Superman and Batman tried to get us to get along like how they’re trying with you and ...Uh, Tiny Robin. But it didn’t work out cause he’s a huge jerk.”

“Supergirl…” Lois says teasingly poking her in the side.

“Aaaaaaannnndd I may have said a few things about him that weren’t so nice. Maybe I also  _ accidentally  _ punched him in the jaw one too many times.” She elaborates further reluctantly. “But hey, it’s no biggy. Just cause I’m not in the game doesn’t mean I can’t cheer on the best cousin in the universe!”

“I’ll do my best!” Jon cheers stepping off the fence after his mother kisses him on the cheek for good luck. 

He runs back across the grass to his team where Jason, who Jon is going to assume is leader, is still boosting morale with a rather passionate speech. “Aye, fight and you may die. Run and you'll live- at least a while. And dying in your beds many years from now, would you be willing to trade all the days from this day to that for one chance, just one chance to come back here and tell our enemies that they may take our lives, but they'll never take our freedom!!!”

“Fuck you, Hood, you stole that from Brave Heart!” A man in white shouts from behind a redheaded Amazon with long hair. 

“Fuck you White Lantern there are children here!” He shouts back pointing to a very annoyed Damian being held in place by a man in a backward red baseball cap and a bow next to them. “Now, are we doing this or what?”

“That depends, are we doing it for Scotland?” White Lantern asks in a mocking tone earning some laughs from the people around him.

Even though Jason is wearing a mask Jon can feel his eyes roll from where he’s standing. “Ya know what, just for that comment, we WILL do this for Scotland! FOR FREEDOM, AND FOR SCOTLAND! FOR SCOTLAND!” He roars with both of his fists raised to the sky.

“FOR SCOTLAND!” The entire group chants loudly in an inharmonious manner with a few people just kind of muttering it off-key and the rest screaming off the top of their lungs like it’s the last thing they’re ever going to say. Many of the other competitors turn their heads at the commotion with confused glances but quickly go back to listening to their own leader’s motivational speech. 

“For Scotland!” Jon cheers with the group feeling motivated while Damian groans silently next to him. 

“Superboy, none of us are Scottish.” He mutters, shaking his head disappointedly. “This ritual for getting people excited is utterly meaningless.” 

“Maybe, but it’s all about making sure everyone is in good spirits.” The baseball cap-wearing man tells Damian letting go of his shoulder now that the “This is supposed to be fun.” 

“Don’t even try it Arsenal, the Demon Brat isn’t capable of getting into ‘good-spirits.’” Red Hood says as he’s set down on the ground. “Now that that's over we can divide and conquer!” 

“Holy sh- crap, you’re in a suspiciously good mood today.” 

“Dude, I got done with my finals last week and the fall semester starts up again in three days! I need to vent out all of this energy someone or else I’m going to go fucking mad.”

“You’re the overachiever who wanted to take summer classes.”

“Don’t remind me.” Jason groans and shoos the man away so that he can talk to the kids in private. The tall male squats down to even his eye level with the children to begin addressing them. “Okay kids, Here’s what we’re going to do, we work while you two stay in the back and don’t get in our way. When we win this thing then you can get up on the stage with us, I’ll even let you hold the trophy.”

“That’s not fair!” Damian vociferates loudly pointing accusingly at his brother. 

“I wanna play too!” Jon whines puffing his cheeks in rage.

The man exhales and shakes his head firmly. “Look, the only reason you’re on my team is that the old man told me too! If it were up to me you two wouldn’t even be on my team.”

“Why did father even make you do it? He could have left us with Batgirl or Nightwing.”

“What about Red Robi-” The youngest boy begins to say only to be rudely cut off. 

“Not HIM.”

“He’s making me do it because you’re too young to be with the Justice League and because I’m not a vigilante or hero or whatever you wanna call people who wear targets on their chests!” He roars standing back up and crossing his arms. “Now while you two are on my team you follow my orders, got it?”

Damian is about to protest again when he notices the gradually deepening shade of red upon his partner’s face. Instead of demanding to participate like he originally planned to do he instead smirks and agrees. “Fine.”

That was the last straw for Jonathan as he stomps a single foot hardly on the ground and religiously asserts, “No.”

“... I’m sorry what?” Jason asks, confounded that the Son of Superman is the one to go against him.

“No! I won’t follow your orders because you’re being a really big meany pants and this is supposed to be fun. Staying back and doing nothing is not fun!” Jon explains bitterly stepping closer with his hands on his hips.

“Gods the Demon Brat is a bad influence on you-” Jason begins to mutter under his breath but is stopped by several gruff jabs in the gut.

“Take. That. Back.” The child snarls with a scowl to rival that of his friend next to him. He punctuates each word with a violent jab of his pointer finger into the offender’s stomach; the only place he can reach with his height.

“I will not take that back because he’s clearly teaching you to disrespect authority. Superboy, I’m the adult here and you’re going to listen to me because I say so.”

“Why, because you’re older? When has that ever stopped you for doing what you wanted, Hood? Is that why you quit; because an adult told you too?” Jonathan snorts, mockingly pressing a finger to the red Bat-Symbol decorating his chest. 

Enraged by the accusation Reh Hood picks the boy up by the collar of his cotton onesie and off the ground. “I’m telling your mom about this you little brat-”

“So we can go tell her all the bad words you’ve been teaching me? Let’s go and tell her! Heck, I’ll even go and tell her right now!” He retorts back nodding his head in the direction of where his mother is while rolling his eyes at the attempted intimidation. 

“Are you threatening me?” The man hisses lowly and astounded at the same time at the boy’s attitude. 

“No, I’m playing fair! I’m not some dumb kid. I’m not super smart but I listen, just like you taught me to.” Jon elaborates as he reminds Jason of what he told him before the birthday party all those weeks ago. “You told me to, ‘Don’t just hear me but listen to me and listen well.’”

“Jesus christ kid… Maybe I’m a bad influence.” Jason breaths placing the child down on the grass and staring at him; Neither of the two breaking eye contact. Finally, the man breathes and relents recognizing that Jonathan is stubborn and won’t quit. “You know what, fine. You can participate.”

“Really?” 

“Just don’t hold us back and follow my orders about our plan. Got it?” 

Superboy’s face immediately loses it’s malice and reverts to its previous disposition of sunny innocence. “Okay! Thank you, Red Hood, and sorry for being mean.” He apologizes genuinely giving the older teen a tight hug around the waist. 

“Yeah, sure apology accepted or whatever,” Jason grunts out prying the small child off of him 

From behind a low chuckle draws Jonathan’s attention to Robin. “And here I was beginning to think that shiny spine of yours was only reserved for me.” The boy taunts patting him on the back in a similar manner one would a pet.

“Nah, you just deserve it the most cause you can be a real Butt sometimes.” He responds with no ill intent in his words. “So what kind of game do you think we’re going to be playing? Do you think they’re going to have one of those giant rainbow parachutes? What about Red Rover? What about a potato sack race?”

“Superboy, we are surrounded by mature heroes. I doubt we would compete in one of your silly school year games.” Damian scoffs putting the cape of his hood up to block his eyes from the sun that is now blazing down from high above. “This is an event even the most seasoned of heroes take seriously. We must not let these idle merriments distract us from this fact.”

A deafening loud high pitch squealing echoes through the field causing many competitors to cover their ears in pain. In front of the lake, a portable stage is rolled in by several heroes and on the top of the platform a woman in a magician’s costume and top hat waves to the crowd who is still groaning in distress from the noise of the speakers. The noise finally ceases and is replaced by the woman’s voice as she announces the start of the competition. 

“Heeeeelllllllllooooooooooo everybody! Welcome to the 8th Annual Justice League Family Picnic!”

The audience explodes in uproarious applause and stomps that cause the ground to vibrate from the strength of it. The flimsy wooden stage wobbles much to the distress of the hero on the stage, but she manages to keep her calm demeanor and stay standing. She waits for everyone to settle down before continuing her speech. “I’m so glad everyone is excited! I’m Zatanna Zatara and I’ll be your host for this afternoon! A couple of announcements first before I get onto the main event. We have news that some families would like to have announced: first off, a very special someone has gotten into her first choice university! Can Lady Shazam stand up for everyone to see!”

A wavy-haired brunette woman in a rose-colored dress, white cape, and glowing lightning symbol on her chest stands up and is thrown upwards by similarly dressed adults who start chanting excitedly. Everyone around them politely claps for the family for a good minute when Zatanna continues talking. “We also have an adoption! The third Robin has officially become adopted by Batman at the end of last school year making him the fourth child of the Dark Night!”

The entire Young Justice team begins screaming in shocked joy as they begin hoisting up the boy wonder and making a make-shift crowd surf while everyone claps around them. It quickly divulges into an amateur mosh pit that the adults around them swiftly do their best to break up before any of the teenagers break a bone. “Speaking of new additions to the family; Batman has also been hiding a little secret from us! And not just Batman but Superman as well! Guess what, it’s a BOY!”

Jon and Damian stare at each other confusingly as the audience cheers on their very existence. Damian is confused because his father never kept him a secret; he just didn’t know he existed. Jon is confused because he just didn’t expect it to be announced. They don’t have time to dwell on it for long as Superman has quickly moved behind him and lifted the child on his shoulders and flys off to show off his child. The older child meanwhile is less gracefully picked up by a tall red-headed Amazonian woman wearing red armor. “Tuck your arms in little one!” She commands with a grin to a bewildered Damian.

He doesn’t have time to ask why before he’s hurled into the sky by her, a bit too strongly, and manages to reach the clouds. Red Hood begins wheezing in laughter at the sight of his younger brother being chucked into the sky screaming while the woman stares up waiting for the boy to come down with open arms. Superman quickly catches the boy as he shoots past him with a startled expression on his face and gently floats the two of them down back onto the grass. 

“Artemis, I think you need to hold back when you’re working with children.” The hero explains as Zatanna continues her announcements in the background. 

“Nonsense!” She exclaims proudly. “He is the brother of Red Hood, is he not? The Batman is skilled in creating durable human beings! Allow me to show you! Bizarro!”

The grey monstrous version of Jonathan’s father slowly stomps over to a still laughing Jason who wasn’t paying attention to the conversation. He’s taken by surprise as the man takes him with one hand as the older teenager begins to instruct him to stop. “Bizarro, nonononononononononononon-!” Unfortunately, Bizarro was already performing the action and tosses him into the air with so much power the body breaks the sound barrier and makes a hole through the clouds. Superman flies away to catch him while Jon and Damian look on in awe. 

“At least our teammates are powerful.” Robin states optimistically while the younger boy uses his camera to take a picture of the new cloud formation in the sky.

“Really strong.” The child confirms clutching the camera. “How come I never heard of the Outlaws before if they’re this strong?”

White Lantern, hearing this question, walks up to them to answer the son of Superman’s question. “The Outlaws aren’t an official team. We’re just a bunch of people who aren’t currently part of the other three teams that work together during the competition.”

“Oh.”

“Alright, now that all the announcements are over it’s time we finally get started, but first I must go over the rules so we don’t have anymore…  _ accidents _ .” Everyone proceeds to stare at the Bat-Clan as Zatanna enunciates those words over the microphone. “Obviously there will be no fatal or serious injuries, no kryptonite, no psychological warfare, no military-grade weapons, no fighter jets, no invasion of privacy, no stealing, no threats physical damage, no threats of financial ruin, no bribes, no threats of adoption, no hacking into participant’s equipment, no sabotaging the field, no kidnapping, no promises of vengeance outside of the picnic area, no promises of taking Atlantis to war, no use of social media, no using chemical weapons, no leaving the picnic area, and finally no hiring of a legal team to find loopholes in the game rules. Are we clear?”

The crowd unanimously mutters agreements to the rules while Zatanna closes up her opening speech. “Good. NOW LET THE GAME BEGIN! Please make your way over to the edge of the lake for the first competition!”

The audience stampedes to the body of water while Damian and Jon follow excitedly with their team, minus their leader who is still somewhere in the sky. At the edge of the lake, the youngest boy tosses his camera and cape behind him as he kneels down to stare at this reflection in the water. The liquid is surprisingly clean and clear, he can’t help but make a comparison to dead man’s swamp. He’s only seen it once so far but he knows that it has lots of water and is the closest thing Hamilton County has to a lake. 

“Hey Robin, how deep do you think this is?” The child asks, making silly faces in the water to amuse himself.

The hooded boy squats down next to Jon looking into the water as well unamused by his reflection and examining the depth of the landmark below. “Lakes such as this one usually have a depth of around 10 meters.”

“Uh… How big is a meter?”

“What is it with you Americans and not following the rest of the world when it comes to superior forms of measurement? 10 meters is about 33 feet.”

“... I don’t know how to tell you this in a way that doesn’t make me seem more dumb to you, but I can’t imagine 33 feet.” Jon explains doing his best to compare it so a single foot-long ruler and failing miserably. 

The older boy signs and shakes his head. “It doesn’t really matter; all you need to know is that if you fall in it there is a good chance you’ll drown.”

“What! I won’t drown, I’m a fantastic swimmer!” He retaliates with a pout.

“And where did you learn these fantastic aquatic skills of yours?”

“The community center in my town! They have a pool and I’m able to tread the deep end of the pool for 12 whole seconds!”

Damian dumbly stares at the child next to him before standing back up and yanking him away from the lake violently “Superboy, remind me to never take you near a body of water ever again.”

“You can’t stop me!” Jon whines standing up next to his friend.

“You might have Kryptonian invincibility but you don’t have Kryptonian strength.” Damian counters cooly watching as several league members who are obviously not competing begin to hand apples out to everyone. Emerald eyes narrow at the fruit suspiciously as an extremely muscular woman in a tall heavy horned helmet and a man in a red full bodysuit, yellow face, and extremely large green cape give the two boys their own.

“Hi, I’m Jo- I mean Superboy. You’re really tall Miss,” Jonathan says staring up at the woman. “Even taller than my dad! What’s your name? Are you an Amazon too?”

She smiles and shakes her head. “My name is Big Barda, I’m not an Amazon.”

“Are you sure? All Amazons are tall and pretty and you’re tall and pretty.”

The pair stare at each other fondly and their grins get wider as the Barda replies to the boy. “I am very sure I am not Amazonian but thank you for your compliments, Superboy.”

“You’re welcome.”

The man ruffles the boy’s hair as he moves on to hand the girl with white hair and an eye patch next to the children an apple. “It looks like I need to step up my game. Little playboys are starting out younger and younger every day.”

The woman laughs and waves as she leads the man away by the arm and waves them off as they continue to hand out apples. Jon examines the bright red apple in the palm of his hands for a second before promptly putting it to his lips to take a bite from. Damian immediately swipes it out of the boy’s hands and smacks him hard on the back of the head.

“Do you just ingest anything given to you without question!?” He shouts indignantly, shaking Jon’s apple in his face. The onesie wearing child opens his mouth to deny the ridiculous claim but pauses as he remembers that he did drink what he believed was poison. Another smack on the back of his head alerts him to the fact that his silence was enough of an answer for Damian. “How are you like this? You are the son of Superman; it is vital that you be cautious of everything! Everyone is a potential enemy and nothing can be trusted?”

“Even you?” 

“You’d be stupid not to think that way! You’ll never know whether I become compromised and you must be prepared! A good contingency plan is key for success!” 

“That’s a really sad way of thinking.” The child declares taking the apple back into his hand.

The speakers turn on again as Zatana’s voice emits from the speakers around them. “Okay everyone has an apple now! Today we are going to be playing a very modified simple game of Apple shooter! Seeing how badly last year’s three-legged race went we thought that something a bit more freeform would be easier. The rules are very simple, each player has an apple and you have to knock it onto the ground. If your apple is knocked off you can still knock off other player’s apples! The team with the most apples after 30 minutes wins! No hiding the apple, it must be visible on your person at all times!”

Holding his chin in contemplation Damian glances around at the other players. “So the more apples that are knocked off the greater the challenge will be.”

“What do you mean Dami-”

“Names.” He interrupts hearing his name slip. “I mean that everyone, in the beginning, will be focused on protecting their own apple which makes them limited to playing defense. More apples being knocked off will cause an increase in people who are available for the offense.”

“You’re also forgetting that some people will also willingly sacrifice themselves in the beginning so that they can focus on protecting their teammates while also being free to attack whoever they want.” Jason elaborates from next to Damian causing both boys to jolt in surprise. 

The older child is the first to recompose himself and glares up at his older brother. “I see you have returned from your little adventure into the stratosphere.”

“And I took it in a whole lot more gracefully than you did, Demon Brat.” Red hood spits most likely glaring at the kid through his mask, but Jon can’t be sure of that seeing as it covers his entire face. “There’s also the advantage against teams who have more long-ranged attacks at their disposal and the fact that there isn’t any cover.”

“So what we’re looking at here is a complete massacre,” Damian concludes crossing his arms.

“Of apples,” Jon adds, wanting to be part of the conversation. 

The older child shakes his head at the utter chaos about to befall them. “I do not see who this will turn out any better than what they were hoping for. This situation will definitely cause severe damage.”

The man shrugs nonchalantly before crossing his arms in a similar manner. “Hey, it’s still better than the three-legged race.”

“What happened during the race?” Superboy asks, tugging on Jason’s brown leather jacket. 

The man doesn’t answer Jon, opting to stare out into the lake in morbid silence disturbing the child greatly. He looks on quietly with the gravitas of a man who has seen too much; who has experienced the horrors of a great war. He shakes himself out of his stooper and turns to his team. “Alright, gather up, we gotta talk strategy! We have only a few minutes to prepare!”

“I could make a dome to protect the group so nothing can attack us.” White Lantern supplies holding up his hand with his ring on it.

“I say we sacrifice half the team so that they can go on the attack while the dome protects them!” Artemis says seriously pulling an ax out from her back. “I refuse to sit by like children.”

“Hey!” Jon and Damian whine simultaneously but are ignored. 

Jason shakes his head pulling the group closer together. “That won’t work for long. Maybe for about ten minutes at most but a dome will draw too much attention to ourselves. If we put a turtle shell above us we’d be asking to get piled up on.”

The young woman with the eyepatch speaks up with a raised hand. “I say we split up on our own and stealthily take as many people out as possible without drawing attention to ourselves.”

“Ravager, I don’t think I need to explain why splitting up is a bad idea.” Arsenal sighs looking back to the audience watching from behind the safety of the fence where two Green Lanterns, Hal Jordan and a female with a Lantern on her right eye, build a transparent wall to protect the audience. “But the dome might not be that smart. The League also has a lantern on their team and could find a way to break it down. Also, it wouldn’t look cool if my daughter has to stare at me doing nothing for the entire game.”

“I’m crushed that you don’t believe in my ability to keep a dome up for long.”

“Not against the entire League. We can do that near the end when things get dire.” Ravager declares looking at Red Hood. “There is also the baby problem.”

“We are right here you know!” Damian shouts but is ignored.

Jon, seeing that they’re still not taken seriously, sighs and pulls Damian away from the adults talking amongst themselves. “Robin, they aren’t going to take us seriously. It’s still kinda a miracle that we’re even here.”

“Hood was definitely never going to allow us to participate fairly. Those fools are probably planning on putting us in the dome the first chance they get just to get us out of the way.” The boy agrees, crossing his arms and scanning the group. His eyes land on the monstrous form of Bizarro Superman with a grin. “Superboy, what do you know about Bizarros?”

“You mean that kinda scary version of my dad?” 

“In a sense, yes.” 

“Uh… I dunno. I think he used to be one of my dad’s villains. Isn’t he a clone or something?” Jonathan clarifies remembering a newspaper article he read about him once. 

Smiling, the older child gestures to the desaturated man with his thumb. “Technically he his a clone, but Bizarros are the cumulations of what happens when such an experiment comes into contact with energy from the Bizarro plane. Bizarros are actually from a different plane of existence. There are actually many realms in the universe that we cannot have casual access too. From the biblical to the obscured there are different realms of reality that stack upon one another to make this one cohesive universe whole. The cloned body is just what solidifies them into our world.”

Jon definitely didn’t understand any of that and claims as much. “I don’t think I get it. So is he from a different reality or something?”

Damian scoffs at the other’s words in a condescending manner. “That would be ridiculous. Everyone knows that alternate realities do not exist; That would be pure science fiction.” The weird feeling in Jonathan’s belly is set off with a vengeance but he doesn’t speak up knowing that he isn’t going to be listened to without proof. “For every person in this world, there is a Bizarro version of themselves. Bizarros are similar but opposite to their counterparts.”

“Wow, that would mean there are Bizarro versions of us!” The youngest child declares trying to imagine a bizarro version of himself. 

“Exactly,” Damian confirms with a nod as his smile gets wider. “That also means that Bizarro Superman over there has a Superboy of his own. A Bizarro child who, in theory, he really loves and would do anything for but without the overprotective stipulations your own father has placed upon you.”

“Okay, but what are we going to do?” Jon asks as he mimics Damian’s stiff posture while staring at the large man. 

The smile upon Robin’s face grows feral and tilts his head in the younger boy’s direction. “We’re only defenseless children who are definitely going to be in the way, right Superboy?” He asks in an overexaggerated innocent tone. “We should do them a favor and get out of their way as quickly as possible,” Damian pulls up his red leather tunic to reveal a novel-sized metal contraption in front of his pectoral region. 

The two walk back to the group where they hear the endings of their plan and stand next to Bizarro. “Okay, so White Lantern is on protection duty while Artemis, Arsenal, and I will throw off their own apples to use their bows outside of the dome to knock out as many apples as we can. We aim for the Justice League as they have the advantage of having the most people participating in their unit.” Red Hood confirms with his crew while the boys inch closer to Bizarro to their approval.

“That is the beginning plan, yes, afterward we’ll need to adapt to the situation and see how it goes. The League will retaliate once attacked and as the team, with the least amount of members we will also be attacked as a supposedly easy target.” Arsenal adds in with a long exasperated sigh holding up his green apple. “Gods, this could either last only a few minutes or hours. I don’t know how we’re going to be able to keep this up and protect these things.”

White Lantern exhales as well while preparing his ring. “I think this year game makers were expecting all of us to Battle Royal our issues out in the shortest amount of time possible to minimize the damage. We wouldn’t want another three-legged race incident.” The group unanimously shudders at the mention of the incident.

“Hey guys,” The white-haired woman calls out as the siren signaling the beginning of the game sounds out through the field. “Where are the brats?”

The group freezes and frantically looks around as a large green dome begins to form around the Justice League and Young Justice teams while the Titans begin to shoot beams of energy in every direction possible. A loud grunt alerts them to Bizarro heaving the two children with one arm, with Robin fiddling with a toolset on what is obviously a bomb and Superboy sitting behind him with his arms tightly around the older boy’s neck.

“HOLY SHIT! WHITE LANTERN CATCH THEM!” Jason shouts in terror watching the children he was supposed to be responsible for shooting through the sky. The Lantern extends his hand to create a sphere to capture the kids mid-air however the strength of Bizarro’s throw propelled them fast enough to easily escape them. 

“Weeeeeeeeeeeee~!” The seven-year-old squeals in delight as he soars in the sky.

While in the sky Jonathan looks down in amazement at the crowd getting smaller the higher they got and feeling as though he’s really flying. Damian meanwhile was scanning the chaos below him and dropped the device in his arms below onto the Young Justice area right before their own Lantern could seal the top of their protective barrier. He then cranes his neck around to face the younger boy clenched tightly on his back with an overly relaxed expression on his face as he proclaims, “Superboy if you don’t break my landing I will die.”

The young cotton clothed child blinks at his friend wondering if he heard him correctly as gravity started doing its job. “What?”

“I’m about to die if you do not find it in yourself to turn over and break my fall.” Damian rewords with the same calm demeanor as before while adjusting the apples in his possession to a more secure place. “Think of it as a literal crash course in your training. You succeed and learn to be a proper shield, you fail and you kill your partner. It’s a simple concept really.” 

Oh.

Oh crap, Jon forgot about the landing!

A cold fear Jonathan has never felt before crawls out from his chest then spreads through his body before suddenly feeling an incredible heat in his eyes seeing that the ground is getting closer. Thinking quickly the boy wraps one leg around Damian’s ankles and struggles to open his own body around to fully cover Robin’s head with one of his arms and presses it against his chest. His other hand meanwhile squeezes the taller boy’s padded knees in further into the fetal position. The duo smashes into the ground with a loud and volatile motion, skidding into the dirt for a seemingly long amount of time. Jon couldn’t feel any pain but he does feel several things that were definitely not trees or the grass hitting his back. 

When the two stopped moving blue eyes he didn’t even notice he was open to examining the pit he created around him before frantically checking the boy in his arms for any injuries. Small arms struggle to break their hold on the older boy as they have appeared to have locked into place, but he manages to release them. Damian stands up casually, handing Jonathan back his red apple, and lifting his pant leg to pry off some sort of metal contraption from his leg and spine. The younger boy, with extremely shaky knees and hot tears seeping from his eyes, tries to stand up again to make sure everything was really okay but notices that he couldn’t. 

It’s not that he didn’t have the strength to but it was because something was keeping him in place on the ground. Jon turns his head to be faced with an orange woman with extremely long hair dressed in purple gripping his waist hard. At first, he thinks that she doesn’t appear to be conscious and panics; doing his best to turn around and check if she was okay. The woman opens her eyes to reveal a bright neon green staring back at him and loosening her grip. Jon jumps back in fear, almost dropping his fruit, as he notices that she doesn’t have any irises, pupils, or whites in her eyes; it’s just pure green. 

Jon helps pull the lady to her feet, a pink apple falling out of one of her hands, and is rewarded with a pat on the head. “Are you okay?” She asks Jon and Damian as the latter kneels down to inspect several destroyed apples in the crater with them. 

“I’m okay, thank you, miss! I’m Superboy.” Jon greets with a shaky smile wiping some of the tears off around his eyes.

“Why hello Superboy! You may call me Starfire.” She greets back with her own more steady smile. “That was a very dangerous stunt you two pulled back there.”

Jon shrinks into himself under her gaze, but the older boy is not phased in the slightest as he walks over to the other to grab his hand and walks away out of the hole. When the two get to the surface the child notices that there were several people on the ground along with many apples. That’s when Jon sees some very familiar faces such as Nightwing among them. 

“Duuuude,” A green young man groans, getting up from his knees and holding his head. “What the heck was that? Did the Outlaws really send two kids to kamikaze us?”

“Beast boy, you can’t use that word as a verb.” A girl in a dark blue hood and leotard replies floating up.

A robot man who still has an intact yellow apple in hand sits up and groans, “I think that’s the perfect word to use for what just happened.”

Damian pulls Jonathan out of the hole and runs the opposite direction of the Titans while the group is still distracted or unconscious. “Dami, what the heck was that!?” Jon hollers as they continue running away from the wreckage they caused. “I thought you were gonna die! That was really scary! You shouldn’t spring things like that on me, I thought you had a plan or something-”

“Oh please,” Damian says, rolling his eyes ignoring the fact that Superboy didn’t use his codename. “I did have a plan. You didn’t expect me to put complete faith into your unskilled hands, did you? That thing I took off earlier was a prototype lightweight impact resistor my father was working on. I just saw a terrific opportunity to begin your training of having you work under pressure and protecting me.”

“I really hate you sometimes, you know that?” Jon pouts glaring daggers at him.

“And yet you’re still with me.” He retorts hiding behind a bush seeing Young Justice shield go down due to Damian’s Bomb going off and knocking several people down along with their apples. “Excellent, now two major teams have lost the majority of their assets meaning we are in the final stretches of the competition.

“That was super quick.” Jon points out a bit disappointed as Damian sneaks them into a bush near the edge of the lake. “I thought it was going to be longer and we all got to play together longer.” 

“Nonsense. It’s clear that the coordinators want to get this over with quickly so that they can lessen the impact of collateral damage; which is a flawed notion to have.” Robin rips the remains of the metal device used to help break his fall off his shoulder blades and places it next to him. “Now that our team has the upper hand all that is left is to formulate a plan on how to defeat the Justice League-”

A gloved hand smacks Damian to the ground causing Jon to scream in surprise but is muffled by another gloved hand. “What the fuck was that?!” Red Hood shouts pressing his little brother’s face into the rooted dirt below. “You just compromised the entire plan!”

“What, the same plan every other team clearly seemed to have been replicating?” The boy scoffs pushing his face out of the earth. “If this stunt were to actually ruin your plan then I’d say that the plan was flawed to begin with. Do you all at least still have your apples?”

Sighing through his helmet Jason shakes his head and releases his hand from the boy’s head, pulling up his hood. “We do, but now we’re a target for the Titans and Young Justice thanks to you two brats!”

“Oh please, I think you have it in yourselves to take on the like’s of them especially with your moles on the inside.”

“What?” Jon blurts out pulling the handoff of his mouth.

“You need to work on your observation skills Superboy. Didn’t you notice Starfire had the perfect opportunity to destroy our apples after catching you but didn’t or the strange timing it took Teen Lantern to put up a force field?” Damian elaborates staring judgmentally at his partner. “They’re both working for the Outlaws.”

“Hey, you’re only half right.” Jason corrects. “Star is the only mole we have. Teen Lantern is just slow when it comes to making large structures with that gauntlet of hers.”

“Mmm, it would appear that I need to keep this in mind if we were ever to fight Young Justice in a head-on fight.” The boy mutters under his breath already formulating several plans in his head to attack them.

“So what do we do now?” The youngest child asks peeking out from the bush to see that a full-on brawl between everybody now that more heroes are free to fight and defenses are down. 

“You two are going to stay here and not do anything!”

“That’s not fair! You said we could participate but then you went ahead and planned to hold us back anyways! You’re a huge Butt!” Jon whines at the older teen. 

“Are you seriously going to argue with me after you two could have gotten seriously hurt or hurt others with that stunt you pulled!?”

“Yes.”

“Superboy, your hands are still shaking.” Jason describes gently gesturing to the boy’s palms. “You’re not ready for high action things like this. And YOU!” He turns to Damian now. “You shouldn’t have convinced him to go along with your weird demented ideas!”

Jon does his best to still his rubber-gloved hands but it’s clear that the adrenaline and fear from believing his friend was going to die is still pumping vigorously within his system. He knows that he’s safe now, and a jerk, but the energy hasn’t ceased to flow out of him. Damian meanwhile is unfazed by his elder brother’s criticisms of him and even goes as far as to ridicule him. “Ideas that work and have a more immediate effect then yours, Red Hood.”

“Okay Demon Brat, I have had enough of your back sass.” The man expresses jabbing a finger into the boy’s clavicle. “If you really want to help then stop doing dangerous shit! I said to follow my orders and you two didn’t do it so if I’m  _ really  _ going to put you both out there this time you listen to my rules and follow my plans!”

“So what is your plan?” Damian asks as he holds one of Jonathan’s still shaking hands to bring him back from whatever stupor the boy has worked himself into; which it does.

“We can handle the Titans and Young Justice, but because of that dumb ass stunt you two pulled we can’t focus on attacking the Justice League; we need to distract them enough to let them take the shield down.”

“And how are we supposed to do that?” Robin questions seeing that their Green Lantern’s shield is not waning in the slightest. If anything, the team’s plan seems to wait it out as everyone is just standing casually behind the wall watching everything with some form of amusement. 

“I’m sure the sons of the two most famous male heroes can think of something. Imma head out, don’t get caught.” The man returns, backing out of the bush and pulling out two pistols from his belt as he begins to shoot into the crowds. 

The boys look at each curiously in the bush with the same question on each other’s mind, “How the heck were they going to distract the Justice League?”

Jon cautiously examines Damian’s body asking, “You didn't happen to steal anything that could help us distract our dads in the next… uh-” the boy rattles his brain for a couple of moments trying to guess the amount of time that has passed. “Twenty-five minutes?” The cowled boy empties his pockets, his utility belt, his boots, the inside of his cape, and the inside of his shirt to reveal a plethora of unfamiliar devices and a handful of knives to a very confused child. “How did you hide all of that from my dad?”

“An assassin never reveals his secrets,” Damian confesses, pulling a pine colored memo pad out from the inside of his sleeve. “Ah, here we go. This is a portable reference book I have created listing all the weaknesses of my father, his wards, the servant, and all of his cohorts.”

He hands it to Jon but the boy already knows that he won’t be able to read it. Jon’s suspicions are confirmed when he opens it and sees a bunch of lines that are definitely not English; it’s not even the other language he knows Damian writes in. “Robin, this is getting real old. You know I’m only in second grade so why do you keep trying to get me to read all this complicated stuff?”

“Oh come on Superboy, Mandarin is the most written language in the world!” He groans, swiping the book back from Jon. 

He flips through to the mini spiral book to near the end and begins to explain his writing. “This is based on my father’s own Agamemnon Contingency against himself. It’s a plan I stumbled across in my first week of staying at the manor designed to incapacitate Batman were he to turn against his current moral standing. Most of these involve threatening the lives of his loved ones or tarnish the memory of his parents.”

“I dunno what you’re talking about but I don’t think I could threaten a life.”

“Of course  _ you  _ wouldn’t.”

“And what about my Dad?”

“Seeing as Kryptonite is forbidden during the game his next greatest weakness would be you,” Damian explains squeezing his hand for a moment to emphasize his point. “He loves you unconditionally and it’s his greatest weakness; to get Superman out we wouldn’t even need to threaten your life. I honestly could get you to start bawling your eyes out and he’d shatter that barrier himself to give you solace.”

“Uhh…”

“I’m not going to do that, I said I wouldn’t do that to you,” Robin says letting go of Superboy’s hand. “But the point still stands.”

Jon tilts his head in thought focusing on what he’s learned in the short time they began formulating ideas. “I… Dami I know my ideas aren’t great and I’m not as talented as you, but I think I have a plan.”

“This is an equal partnership, go ahead and say it.”

Twenty minutes later the two boys file out of the bush quietly noticing several new craters in the ground, some with heroes knocked unconscious inside, and sneak up to the Justice League’s dome, where everyone was still calm and collected even though there were several heroes attacking it. The smallest of the pair holds a contraption in his arms that is similar to the bomb Robin against on Young Justice, and heaves it above his head with one hand quietly as to not draw any attention to himself.

Some of the League members, Batman and Hawkgirl, notice this but do their best not to make it obvious that they can see what’s happening as they would rather wait it out and see their plan form. The explosive hits the barrier with a loud thud and nothing more as it unceremoniously flops to the ground. The rest of the League member heads turn at the noise and stare directly at the two boys. Damian sees this and groans loudly, knocking Jonathan over by elbowing him in the chest and walks up to take the device off from the ground. 

“I knew this was a bad idea, why do I ever listen to you?” He snarls, picking it up and glaring at his partner. “You were so weak that the impact didn’t even set off the bomb!”

“Hey!” Jon shouts back stomping up to Damian in evident rage. “I didn’t mess it up, you did! You said you could make the bomb and it was in your notes!”

“I can and I did! The explosive was perfect but you were the one who wanted to throw it and feel like he did something useful!”

“Boys it’s okay, you two can try again.” Flash jokes light-heartedly from behind the green wall as he listens to the interaction much to the displeasure of their father’s.

“I am useful! You’re the one who wants to use me just because I’m Superman’s son which makes me useful to you!” Superboy screams shoving the other boy in the chest.

Robin snarls and steps forward with a raised hand before making the shiny red apple out from the half-Kryptonian’s hand. Jon, and Shazam who is inside the shield, gasp appalled by the action causing him to go red in the face. 

“You know Dami-”

“Names.”

“ROBIN! YOU KNOW ROBIN, I’D AT LEAST LIKE TO HAVE A RING ON MY FINGER BEFORE I’M FUCKED OVER FROM BEHIND!” The young child hollers at the top of his lungs before tackling Damian to the ground and attempting to slam his head against the grass but is gracefully flipped over hurled into the wall.

“Woah!” Green Lantern shouts.

“Language!” The blue Shazam sibling cries out covering the woman dressed in purple ears

“JO- SUPERBOY!” The Man of Steel hours in horror hearing the words that left his little baby’s mouth and seeing him violently tossed into a wall. He knows that Jon is extremely durable so he chooses to focus on his son’s language. “Where did you learn to speak like that young man?!”

Unfortunately, the children seem to be too caught up in their own banter to pay attention. “What do your silly American wedding customs have to do with anything?!” Damian asks confused and angry.

“I dunno! Nightwing said it once and it sounded mean!” He says as he gets to his feet.

The League all simultaneously stare at Batman who, to the untrained eye, is completely unfazed. Too bad half the group can read his microexpressions due to years of exposure. “Batman, do you let your kids talk like that in front of small children?” Wonder Woman chuckles noticing he looks guilty. 

“... Hm.”

“Wow Bats, forshame,” Flash says, shaking his head in mock disappointment. 

“Well if marriage is apparently a punishment in this country that explains much about this backward culture and I’ll gladly partake in this new form of torture,” Damian shouts then turns to his father from behind the wall. “Father, I demand you talk to Superboy’s father this instant and settle on a dowry! He is mine and I will make his life miserable!”

“Aw~!”

“Holy shit!”

“Language!”

Batman sighs and moves up closer to the structure separating them as he pinches the bridge of his nose. “Son, marriage is not an effective method of torture, we do not use dowries, your family hasn’t used them, and I’d never in a million years allow you to marry Superman’s son.”

Superman nods, wholeheartedly agreeing, moving up to the barrier himself. He opens his mouth to add to the conversation when he’s interrupted by his own child.

“That’s real funny Robin. You think you can torture me by making me marry you!”

“What did you just say?!” He shouts back. “You don’t think I have the ability to make you miserable!? I already made you cry once and I can do it again!”

“I’m sorry what was that about you making my son cry-”

“Marrying you wouldn’t be torture at all!” Jon repeats getting up in Damian’s face. “The worst thing that would happen to me if I married you is that I’d have to move to the worst state in the worst city! You’re filthy rich! I could buy all of the videogames and candy I want if I married you! In fact, I should marry you because I promise I’ll make your life miserable!”

“Sport, we don’t say things like that-”

Jon interrupts his father again with more shouting. “What’s the most you’ll get if you marry me, huh?! I literally have nothing!”

“You said it yourself, you’re Superman’s son meaning you’re half Kryptonian! I’d get a lot from marrying you!”

“Hey, I think they’re getting serious.” Black Canary whispers warily and loud enough for the boys’ fathers to hear making them lose some color in their faces. 

Green Arrow begins howling with laughter and puts a hand on Batman’s shoulder to steady himself upward. “Hahahahahaahaha- Oh- Oh my god! T-This is great! This is just perfect! Hey Bats, Supes, you two have to invite me to the wedding! This is j-just so precious!” 

“I’m half-Kryptonian, that doesn’t mean anything! I don’t have any of that alien stuff and I’m definitely not getting any if I marry you!” The young boy replies shoving Damian back.

“Nothing? You forget who I am and who I came from! If I were to marry you I could take your DNA and create the most powerful heir known to all creation just like my mother did!”

“Da- NO!” Batman cries out almost completely breaking his vigilante persona. “You are not doing that!”

“We’re boys! Boys can’t make babies together… I think? Wait… Dad, can two boys make babies?” Jon asks all anger evaporating from him and is replaced by complete and utter confusion.

Superman begins to nervously sweat as not only the soft blue eyes of his son stare at him expectantly, but the entire Justice League as well. “Uh- well… I mean they can raise children together but um… they- well they- Wait. Sport, I’m not having this conversation with you now! I- we’ll talk about this with your mother when you get home!”

“Way to pussy out Superman.” The grey colored Shazam sibling calls out humorously. 

“That wasn’t a no…” Jon concludes, causing the hero to squawk in surprise and begin sputtering out denials upon the two boys deaf ears. “What did your mom do?”

“She did what all parents do to procreate-”

“Son, don’t you dare say another word!”

“Why not, father?” Damian asks with an amount of innocence he’s never shown before. “I don’t see why you are so ashamed of my creation. You should be proud of the marvel that I am. Aren’t all children created in hospitals; Why else would they come from medical wards?”

“...”

“Yeah Batsy!” Green arrow continues to laugh, now patting the man on the back. “Don’t you know that all children are made in hospitals? Get your head out of the gutter.”

“Arrow, I am this close to throwing you into the neatest tree if you don’t get your hands off me right now.” The Dark Knight growls out slapping the arm off of him.

“You know what, let’s find out where babies come from, then we can talk about getting married!” Jon announces completely appearing to forget the train of thought that led to this conversation in the first place and is genuinely serious about marrying the friend he knew for less than a month.

“Whatever! I don’t even care about this stupid game anymore. The bomb failed and we don’t have our apples anymore so might as well!” Damian agrees who heartedly grabs Jonathan’s hands to lead him away. “But afterward we’re getting married and I will have that heir!”

“Fine!”

“John, open the dome!” Superman commands in a stern ton looking like he’s lost all color in his expression.

“Wha-” Green Lantern begins to question when another voice joins in.

“You will create an opening for us right now or else I’ll have to be co-fathers-in-law with Superman and I will make you pay for that!” Batman threatens using his trademark glare on the man. Nervously, Green Lantern creates an opening for the dynamic duo and the moment they step out an explosive goes off on the other side of the barrier long enough to distract the Justice League for a device, similar to the bombs Robin as been using, shoots out from the edge of the forest and rolls through the opening and ruptures, causing everyone near the opening to drop their apples.

At that moment the siren rings out through the clearing signaling the end of the game. The instant the alarm silences Jon squeals in delight and wraps his arms around Damian while the boy drops the bomb in his arms to reveal it was a hollow metal shell. The masked child holds one arm around his partner and he glances at Superman before giving him the smuggest grin he could muster and sticks his tongue out mockingly at him. From the edge of the clearing, where the explosive came from, Red Hood steps out from the shadows tossing his apple in his hand condescendingly.

“Well, what do we have here? Looks like some people dropped their apples and- oh wait what’s this?” Jason gasps in mock shock. “It looks like my team still has all their apples- minus Superboy of course but it was a worthy sacrifice.”

“Red Hood,” Batman says in a scarily calm manner. “Did you make them say all that stuff just to get under our skin?”

He throws his head back in annoyance and groans out, “No, that wasn’t me. Actually it wasn’t even Demon Brat. It was Superboy’s idea.”

“What?” Superman gasps at the thought his little boy could think of such an evil idea to manipulate him into opening the barrier. 

Jon drops one of his arms from Damian’s neck and digs into the boy’s pocket to pull out the forest green memo pad. “I mean it wasn’t my idea. Robin is the one who had all the information we needed. You get really weird about Batman stuff Dad and baby-making.”

“And Father, you have an aversion to anything Superman related.” Robin continues plucking the papers from the other’s hand and flipping it open. “You also have a profound jealousy streak when it comes to any of your son’s liking a super; even if it’s innocent. For example: When Nightwing bore the Robin mantel there was a recorded incident where he claimed that Superman was his favorite hero and you proceeded to ban him from all Superman-related activities for the next year.” 

“I thought about just making the worst possible combination of everything you don’t want me to do!” 

“And it went perfectly.” 

Superman frowns at his son and crosses his arms. “Superboy, that isn’t a very nice way to play and you used some extremely foul language. When we get home, your mother and I will have a serious talk about this.”

“Playing nice?” Damian scoff, picking up Jonathan in his arms and walking towards the portable stage along with the other participants. “He’s  **_my_ ** partner and  **_I_ ** don’t play nice.” The two begin laughing cruelly together as they run away to meet up with their team.

The two fathers stand there shocked and slacked jaws as Jason walks up next to them blowing out a long impressed whistle. “Wow, those two really are trouble together.” With that, the older teen follows behind the kids back to his team.

“Bruce,” Superman says in an emotionless tone.

“Names.”

“Bruce.” He says again not correcting himself. “We’ve made a terrible mistake by letting those two be friends.”

“Hm.” The black wearing man agrees with a short tired grunt. “Sad thing is I can’t even ground him for this cause of that damn contract.”

Meanwhile, as soon as the two fathers are out of sight Damian drops Jon roughly onto the ground. The seven-year-old expected this and landed safely on the grass then stood up and walked behind his friend. “Do you think that was too mean? I mean I know saying all those bad words make me feel bad but the exit was a bit much.”

“I think the bridal carry was the perfect amount of dramatic flair to give your father nightmares for the rest of his life.” Damian smiles, satisfied by their effect of the Kryptonian. 

“Oooo,” Superboy winces looking back guiltily. “I should probably apologize for that when I get home and tell him I’m definitely never ever, ever, ever going to marry you.” 

“The feeling is mutual. There will be plenty of time for you to grovel at Superman’s feet later but now we must claim our prize so that I may lord it over my father’s inferior wards!” The boy yells excitedly running faster to the stage. 

“Hey wait up!” Jon shouts running after him with glee.

After the Outlaws are declared the official winners of the 8th Justice League Picnic Competition the group head up to the stage and claim their trophy, a rather large and gaudy gauntly, that was taken by Red Hood to keep as the leader of the game. Superboy and Robin believe that it should be them who should take the prize home as they did the most work, but were quickly vetoed by their leader. The competition was officially over and the families gathered back together while the barbeque began to be lit now that the clearing is available for public use. People begin discarding the destroyed apple carcasses by either eating them or burying them into the ground.

The two boys enjoy their meals together letting the events of the day so far wash over them and bask in their temporary glory. They run off to play in the field and swim in the lake with Aquaman, who has created a bit of an elaborate water slide for all of the children with his powers while the adults watch on content that their kids are having fun. The rest of the afternoon continues on in this way and well into the evening with no issues. 

The second the sun disappears in the horizon several continuous pops in the sky gathers everyone’s attention to colorful flames causing the crowd to cheer. Damian watches the display curiously and turns to his family, who have moved their table next to Superman’s family picnic area. “What’s that?” 

Cassandra points up to the explosions in the sky and says, “Fireworks.”

“Those are fireworks?”

“Yes.” Batgirl replies.

He glares at the performance above him then looks to Jon, who is innocently sitting in his mother’s lap using an entire roll of film to capture the lights. The girl uses her fingertips to turn the younger child’s face to look at her and smiles. “League never shows them. They don’t celebrate fun. Us, family here, we celebrate fun. The world outside the League of Assassins celebrates fun.” The son of the Demon doesn't do anything in response to her attempts of conversation and silently continues to watch the show in peace with his siblings and the Kents with harsh scrutiny. 

At the same time, Batman is in the Bat-tank with Superman while examining the contents of Jonathan’s glass of milk solemnly. The tests have been completed and now they’re waiting for the results. On one of the computer screens next to the detective, a white screen full of chemicals pops up and the two vigilantes look to the list sternly. The brightly dressed hero sighs despairingly and silently crumbles in his seat. He holds his face in his hands as tears form in his eyes then punches his own thigh hard enough elicit pain. His friend sighs and takes off his cowl to read the results better and show some sympathy for the man whose world is crashing around him.

A man whose son’s life will never be the same. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You'll never find out what the three-legged race fiasco was because whatever you're thinking happened is gonna be better than whatever I could come up with. 
> 
> Anyways, if y'all haven't noticed some of these tags seem off to you since the beginning of this story, you should look. This next arch has been in the works since the day I posted the first chapter of this story and will be where all that not so nice stuff will take place. It will still be all about the children being kids, bonding, and learning about heroes but we're about to get into some more of the serious aspect of the same exact stuff. Don't worry, I'm not going to drastically change the flow of this story but I wanted you to know and it won't be right away. I Just want to give y'all proper warning.
> 
> Thank you again for reading this extremely weird and mostly filler chapter as we head out of the beginning of the story!  
> Next Chapter: The new school year starts!


	11. Consequences and Omens

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jonathan starts his school year in the worst way possible as his entire life is ripped away from under him. At least his friends Damian is there to make things better... right?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yo, spoilers for DC Rebirth's Superman #23 incase y'all care about that, but you're reading his fic so you probably know what happened. 
> 
> The last chapter got such a good reception that I'm grateful and happy and all of that positive stuff and I'm sorry for following it up with a not nice chapter. I planned it that way weeks ago and I'm not gonna change it but if someone is binge ready this I'm sorry for the whiplash.

Jonathan Samuel Kent is only seven years old.

It’s a fact everyone around him is acutely aware of; how can they not be? Jonathan is the tallest boy in his class but even so, he has a more innocent and optimistic outlook on the world around him than some children who are even younger than him. The son of the last son of Krypton never once in his life faced any hardship as his father has. He’s never had to carry the weight of being the last survivor of his planet or suffered the loss of a parent like his mother has. Jonathan, while not from a rich family, has never gone a day hungry in his life thanks to the efforts both of his parents provided for him.

He’s never suffered any prejudice for who he is, and all his life he has been given nothing but unconditional love and kindness. The sleepy town of Hamilton County was all Jonathan’s world consisted of and everyone in that town loved him. He would always get a freebie whenever he visited the candy shop, an extra scoop of ice cream when he went to the ice cream parlor, and a bit of a discount when he went to the toy store because everyone liked him so much.

No one would consider Jonathan a spoiled or snobby child due to all of the good fortunes he’s accumulated over his life because his parents do their best to instill honest morals and values into him. Jonathan shares his belongings, always treats everyone with kindness, never takes anything he owns for granted, and does his best to not start any conflicts. Jonathan Samuel Kent is a good boy by all definitions and there’s a saying his parents like to tell him: Good things happen to good people.

If that is true, if the young boy who has done no wrongs in his life is a good person, then why is he suffering right now?

Sky blue orbs widen as he’s taken back to reality from the dark abyss of his mind as he tries to inhale desperately for a tiny amount of air. There’s something in his throat that’s asphyxiating him and he doesn’t know what. It’s stuck in his airway and expanding as it crawls deeper into his body. It’s alive and all it wants to do is hurt Jon, possess him, own him, and use him. His arms are confined against something cold as he strives to claw at whatever is violating him. 

Even though he knows his eyes are open he can’t see anything; all he sees is black.

Muffled voices are wailing maddeningly in the background as whatever is inside him slides deeper into his stomach, expanding his small body beyond its limits. At the same time more of this horrible entity slither up into his nose causing unimaginable sadness to shoot out through his body, and his eyes roll to the back of his head as this horrible thing travels out of his eye sockets. He tries to close his mouth in a hopeless attempt to stop whatever is inside him from continuing any further but he’s too weak to do anything more than gag.

The little boy so desperately wants to vomit and his body involuntarily gives out sloppy volatility wet retches causing the small amount of air left in him to escape his body. Slimy tendrils snake over every part of his body and threaten to consume him whole with the promise of leaving nothing behind. The pain of not being able to breathe clouds his mind and he feels as though he’ll pass out any second, or worse give up fighting for his life. 

Jonathan Samuel Kent is many things but quitter was never one of them.

The child’s second wind, or maybe it was his last-ditch effort, he manages to find the strength to lift his arms to his face and begin clawing at the moist living mire on his face. Finally, instead of pure darkness clouding his vision, he’s able to see light. He sees a strong hand reaching out towards him and with all of the energy Jon has left he grabs onto this literal lifeline. Only his short fingertips are able to touch the callous skin but it’s enough for whoever is on the other side to grasp onto his hand firmly and pull him out of this horrible living nightmare. 

He lands headfirst onto the frozen ground below him where what was once muffled sounds are now clear agonizing outcries of horror. Immediately Jon begins vomiting the remains of the monster inside of him while his savior begins to comfort him. “It’s going to be okay Jon, I’m here. I’ll always be here for you.” The voice reassures as they slam a flat hand against his back forcefully to assist in the creature’s evacuation.

“I- Daddy wha- HuUH- Aaaaulck-” Is all the child is able to get out before the bodily contents of his insides are splattered onto the floor. 

“Just keep at it, Jonathan, it’ll be over soon.” Jon’s father utters frantically into his son’s ear. “You’re doing good son, you’re a good boy. It’ll only be a bit longer.”

He heaves continuously until whatever was inside him leaves his body completely. He’s taken into his father’s strong arms and places slightly over his shoulder as the man continues to pat his back in a soothing fashion rather than a forceful one. When Jonathan is able to get that sweet and beautiful oxygen back into his lungs he breaks down in sobs and tightly entangles his digits into the famous bright red cape. 

“It’s okay Jon, it’s over now. Just let it all out.” 

“I’m sorry to cut this moment short,” A deep voice apologizes out from behind Jon. “but we still have the remnants of Manchester Black’s ooze to deal with.”

Superman grunts at the man who spoke and scolds, “Bruce, can’t you see I’m busy? It’s taken care of for now and I’ll deal with it later.”

“Superman… Clark, I understand. I understand what you must be going through right now, I have children of my own too, but this is something that cannot wait until later if you want to keep him safe.” Batman explains slowly as if stepping around mine shells. 

Unfortunately for the Bat, he has already triggered the explosion inside of the Kryptonian. “Damn it Bruce, why can’t it!? My son needs me right now-”

“This situation is why your son needs you! Stop being irrational-”

“Irrational? You think me wanting to make sure my little boy is okay is irrational?!” Superman yells as his eyes turn red with fury. 

“No, I don’t! What I think is irrational is that you’re risking endangering your son further by not taking action now! The containment until is able to hold off what was inside him for now but we need to destroy it if Jonathan is to remain safe! Do you want to risk it escaping and getting inside him again and hurting more people! Look at it Clark, it’s not going it in forever and this is your tech we’re working with here! You can comfort him as much as he needs later but the time for action is now! There might still be more in him as well that’s doing irreversible things to him if we don’t check NOW.” The man elaborates irritably pointing at a human size glass pod with a large crack in it that’s been patched over with ice. Inside the pod is a thick black liquid that is slamming itself ardently inside in an attempt to break out. 

Jonathan stares at the liquid through water eyes before moving around to try and get a grip back onto reality. He sees that all around him is ice, from the floor to the ceiling is pure ice. In the corner of the space they’re in he sees Robin, Tim Drake, unconscious on the cold ground in his red and black uniform next to a trail of blood. Underneath him is a smaller body that is equally unconscious and bleeding with what looks like a metal pole gripped tightly in his shard-covered hands. Jon doesn’t have to be a master detective to know that the body belongs to Damian.

“Dami…” The young boy wails clutching onto his father’s broad back tighter. 

Jon begins to shake his head and sob begging for this to be a nightmare. This has to be a vision because there is no way for whatever is happening right now to be real. He’s probably just having another blackout and this is some sick conjuration of his mind’s creation. He shuts his pale eyelids hard, squeezing them shut ing does his best to wake up for this nightmare as he does when he has a bad dream with the hope he’ll wake up in his bed at home or in his father’s truck, or even just standing next to his friend in a random place where they were safe.

As soon as he does darkness washed over him, but not the same darkness that ravished his senses earlier, and a warm light lays itself upon his body like a soft blanket. Jonathan carefully opens his eyes to see a bright white ceiling above him. Blue-eyes blink a couple of times confused about his whereabouts as he knows that it’s not his home in Hamilton County because there are no planks of wood that he spent so long counting during the late night when he couldn’t fall asleep. He’s also not in the Wayne manor because their ceilings are a weird cream color with fancy intricate molding in the corners; that and the fact that the room he’s in right now is only as long as the twin bed he feels himself laying upon. 

He can see the entire room from where he is laying which doesn’t say much for the size of the area. Craning his head forward slightly he sees a barren small corner desk and a blue rolling chair he sees has some of his belongings thrown on it such as his laptop and colored pencils. Directly adjacent to the desk is a standing wardrobe with pale plastic cyan double doors and several drawers underneath that is so close to the desk it couldn’t possibly be opened unless the desk chair is pushed in. 

There were other things of note like the shelves on the walls, his plushies on the bed, and the dead bug that is sitting in the light fixture in the ceiling, but the most important thing he notices is the window. Jon slowly pushes himself off of the bed, a bed that doesn’t feel like his due to the lack of his body impression in the center, and pushes back the light blue curtains that he certainly doesn’t remember owning aside to reveal an un-openable window leading to a bustling cityscape several stories below him.

Before full-blown panic could set in, the door to the room swiftly opens, barely missing Jon’s bed by a single inch, as both of his parents do their best to squeeze into the space next to him. Lois is immediately at his side and hands him a cold glass of water while Clark takes a seat on the child-size desk chair, making the Man of Steel look absolutely massive. The boy takes a ginormous swig of the cool liquid, almost emptying the cup in one go, and exhales in relief before shouting, “WHAT THE HECK IS GOING ON!?”

Both adults wince at the volume but they don’t appear surprised in the slightest. The lavender-eyed brunette is the first to talk after a moment of silence as she brushes her son’s messy black hair out of his face. “Jonathan, do you- um… what’s the last thing you remember?”

Jon pauses and does his best to search the crevices of his mind, before that horrible vision/dream, for the events before he woke up in this strange place. He remembers going home after the picnic, taking a shower, falling asleep, waking up the next day and walking out the front door to help Kathy feed his family’s chickens. After that, it’s all a blur.

“I was… Kathy and I were supposed to feed the chickens then I would help her take a new batch of milk to the school. I left the house but I don’t remember anything after that. Why don’t I remember anything after that?”

His parents look at him intently with furrowed brows and his mom bites her bottom lip nervously as she takes her hand away from his forehead. Clark adjusts his glasses and exhales nervously as he begins to speak up. “Wooo, okay.” He breaths running a hand through his wavy hair. “Jon, a lot more has happened between Sunday and now.”

“What do you mean?”

“Jon.” His mom sighs empathetically as she takes the glass out of his hands and sits next to him on the bed. “During the picnic, Batman ran some tests on your milk; the one we always get from Kathy’s grandfather. He… He found out it had some really bad stuff inside it. Stuff that was meant to hurt you.”

“Like… like germs? I learned that there were bacteria in milk and cheese in school.” The boy recalls as he remembers the science experiment his class did in kindergarten about moldy cheese. 

Jon’s Father shakes his head negatively. “No, not like that Sport. It was something evil that was created by a very bad man. He wanted to poison you and make you do very bad things.”

“Oh.” The child blurts out dumbly trying to absorb all of the information he’s been given. “Did he hurt you guys too?” He questions knowing that his family drank the tainted milk too. 

Clark shakes his head. “No, everyone else is okay. He…” He stops talking as the words are too painful to express aloud.

“He was targeting you. He only wanted to hurt you, Jon.” Lois finishes with a grave expression. “When we found out we took you somewhere to get all of the bad stuff out of you. After you finished feeding the chickens with Kathy we all left to secretly get you tested and get all of it out of you. It… it wasn’t easy but you’re going to be okay now.”

“Was I not okay before?”

“He wanted to speed up the development of your superpowers,” Clark explains as he finds his voice again. “The bad man wanted to control you so that you would work for him. That’s why your powers came in so early.”

“Okay.” Jon nods understanding the most important parts of what’s being told to him. A villain put poison in his milk so that he could make Jon evil. That’s simple enough to get, but that doesn’t explain why he’s in a strange place now. “So why are we here? Where are we?”

Lois holds her baby close to her bosom and squeezes his shoulder reassuringly. “We had to move away from Hamilton, Jonathan.”

“Why? The bad man is gone, right? Why did we have to move?” 

“Jon, everyone but us knew that the milk was bad. They knew they were hurting you and kept feeding you it.” His father says moving to sit at the foot of Jonathan’s bed.

“What about all the nice people and my friends-”

“Jon, honey.” Jon’s mom interrupts, rubbing her hand comfortingly along the side of his arm. “Those people, they tricked us. They aren’t nice people and they aren’t your friends. I’m so sorry baby, I’m so sorry that this is happening to you because of us.”

“Bu- everyone is nice and Kathy and I were supposed to go to class together and make more friends-”

“I’m sorry Jon.” Clark cries quietly with tears in his eyes as he holds the boy’s thin fingers between his own. “I’m so sorry. I can’t do anything to make this any easier on you and it’s all my fault-”

“Clark-”

“No Lois it is! He only went after Jon because I’m Superman.”

“Clark, we knew the risk when we got into this. It’s not your fault someone wanted to go after Jon but we should have checked the town out more carefully. It was perfect, too perfect-”

“No,” Jon says loudly holding his father’s hand tighter. “It’s no one’s fault. I… You still haven’t told me where we are. Also, my new room is really _small._ How come I don’t remember moving in here?”

His parents look at his reaction curiously before Lois answers him. “The treatment you went through took a toll on you; it’s probably why you don’t remember a lot of what happened. You were asleep for five days and during that time we had to rush to move you to Metropolis.” 

“Metropolis apartments are really small. The master bedroom is probably only a bit bigger than your old room.” The man adds in with a light-hearted chuckle. “It’s certainly nothing like the farm.”

Lois laughs along with her husband and does her best to grin. “We probably could have found something with a bit more space if we had the time but this place is actually really nice once ya get over the space issue. A clean style, a sleek modern kitchen, thick walls, and there’s even a balcony. We’re twenty-one floors above ground so it is quite the view; the Daily Planet is even viable from here. If I had a nice place like this when I lived in Metropolis before I’d be the happiest reporter in the world. I’ll tell you what, we can even paint your new room any color you want.”

“What about the farm?”

“Don’t worry about the farm for now okay. Just know that Krypto and the chickens are somewhere nice and safe.” Clark reassures ruffling his son’s hair. “I know it’s a lot to take in right now bud, so if you need anything, and I mean anything, just say the word.”

“I…” Jon begins as he loosens his grip and turns away from his parents’ woefully. “Can I be left alone for a bit?”

The two look at each other in a silent conversation before agreeing to let their son have some time to himself. They both kiss their boy on the cheek and leave the room making sure to leave the door slightly ajar so that Jon can get some fresh air seeing as his window doesn’t open. Jon breathes as he flops back down onto the bed, holding a Superman teddy bear, as the weight of the situation he was suddenly pushed into settles in his mind.

Jon turns to his side, pressing the bottom of his face into the yarn hair of the toy, and does his best to think positively. Now that it’s completely quiet the noise of the city seems louder than ever before and threatens to deafen Jon. He can’t seem to come up with any positive attributes about what happened to him and begins to cry quietly at his first real loss.

The loss of his home.

The loss of the people he knew.

The loss of his past life.

Everything was taken from him because he went ahead and gave Red Robin that milk to test. He knows it’s probably good that they found out but part of him regrets the outcome. Even though he has his family he feels lonely all of a sudden. He feels cramped and constricted with emotions he’s never felt before. All he knows is that he woke up from a nightmare into another one but this new nightmare is real.

The next days pass by in a blur as the family gets settled into their new home as they have to get adjusted to living in an urban setting after living on a farm for all of Jonathan’s life. Lois and Clark have offered to take Jon out into the city to explore but he always declined the offer feeling that the world outside is too big for him when before he would eagerly welcome the opportunity to see a new place. He commits himself to the two-bedroom apartment, the most he does to leave is step out onto the balcony, but even that is short-lived as he immediately retreats inside.

Two days later it was Saturday again when Jonathan stepped out of the concrete wetroom, a very different feeling from his old white-tiled bathroom, to the sight of his father quietly gesturing for him to enter his parents’ bedroom. Robotically Jon walks over into the bedroom that is still surrounded by cardboard boxes and sees his mother kneeling down in their walk-in closet, something his parents never had back in Hamilton. She gets up from the floor and moves away to reveal to Jonathan a familiar metal pad inside on the floor.

“Is that-”

“It sure is, son.” Lois affirms as she hits a button on the side of the wall and it lights up to life. “It’s not the same and can only go to the treehouse, but honestly that’s probably for the best.”

“Remember that you’re not allowed to use it without us around,” Clark says, patting Jon on the back. “It’s… Uh… Still a work in progress so I called over some help to work on it but it’ll be done after your first week of school.”

The child takes a wobbly step forward before completely freezing up at the words. “School?”

Lois smiles and squats down as she ties her tangled hair out of her eyes. “I know it’s been rough Jon, but school is important. Plus maybe starting school can help bring back some normalcy into your life.”

“We would have waited until the teleporter was done to tell you about it, but things have been so… gloomy we thought it would be nice to give you something to look forward to.” The man says holding his son closer. 

“I guess?” Jon responds confused. He’s not excited to begin the new school year but he really can’t just cross out the idea entirely. The boy has never been one to completely throw out a potential opportunity to make friends. “What are city schools like?”

“Well…” Superman apprehensively utters now avoiding eye contact with his child. 

Oh.

Oh, that was not a good sign.

Monday morning Jonathan was forced to wake up early, but not nearly as early as 5 o’clock AM like he did on the farm, and put on a casual tank top and gym shorts to leave the apartment for the first time since he moved there. The hallways remind much of a hotel, or at least pictures of a hotel because Jonathan has never stayed in one before. They were wider than his room which is nice and extremely spotless aside from the dusty carpeted floor he walks across. At the end of the hall he and his father, who is carrying Jonathan’s backpack, enter a large elevator and head down to the parking garage to head to his father’s truck where he’s strapped down in his booster seat and driven to his new school. 

The boy doesn’t bother looking out the window in wonder as he can’t seem to muster up the energy to care. He knows his parents are doing their best to cheer him up but he’s like an empty sad void of sadness that is doing its very best to be happy and not think about how his life is a complete lie and how everyone he’s ever known just wanted to hurt him. Too freaking bad that no promise of teleporters or some fancy new city school is going to do anything to bring Jonathan’s mood up by any means. 

At the edge of Metropolis sits a fenced-off green area with several buildings inside it and a fountain at the front. Even though it’s only around 8 AM there are already several students around the campus getting out of… Limos? “Daaaaaad?” Jonathan calls out slowly, suddenly extremely invested in his surroundings. Now that he looks around he begins to think that he’s not in an elementary school at all as there are children of all ages from kindergarten to seniors in high school. Everyone was wearing an Egyptian blue blazer with a silk black tie and grey dress pants. The large brick European style buildings begin to maze around him as the old farm truck drives deeper into the school. 

“Yeah Sport?” Clark answers glancing at the boy through the rearview mirror.

“I think we took a wrong turn.”

“I really wish we did but this is your new school.”

He blinks in bewilderment trying to wrap his head around the fact that this weird place that could be mistaken for a college was his new school. There has to have been a mistake because all the people walking around were wearing fancy clothes and fancy cars. Jonathan is nothing like them.

“Are you sure?”

“Unless your mother enrolled you into a different school this is it.” The man responds, parking next to a long building with an incredibly wide white-marble staircase in the front. 

He’s unbuckled from the back seat and led inside the establishment past enormous heavy wooden double doors to a cleanly dressed woman at the front desk with her platinum blond hair in a bun. She continues to type on the mahogany as if there weren’t two people standing in front of her waiting to be addressed. For a brief moment, both males fear that they’re breaking some sort of rule and they were not in the correct place when she stops her motions above the keyboard, and her neutral expression morphs into an artificial smile. 

“Hello, may I help you?” The receptionist asks sweetly.

Breathing a sigh of relief Clark adjusts his baseball cap and smiles back. “Hi, yes. My name is Clark Kent and my son Jonathan is supposed to be starting second grade today.”

She types a bit into her computer without breaking eye contact with the man before speaking again. “A yes, I see him right here in the system. Please wait here while I go pick up his school ID and uniform.” The woman gets up from her seat and steps into the office behind her leaving the two alone.

Jon anxiously scoots closer to his father doing his best not to look as if he’s internally screaming and failing completely. Clark notices his son’s anxiety and kneels down as he reaches into his red flannel pocket to reveal a pair of red-rimmed glasses similar to the frames upon his own face. “Hey Sport, you see these?”

“Your spare glasses?”

“Yep.” He smiles and places them on his son’s face. “These glasses are special. They help me blend into the world and fit in with everyone. Maybe they’ll do the same for you too.”

“Is that because they’re made of that special alien stuff?” Jon asks, pushing them up the bridge of his nose. 

Clark snickers as he stands up. “No, no nothing like that. These are just normal glasses but they sure do help in a pinch. You’d be surprised how little it takes to hide my identity.”

Jon looks up at his father through the clear lenses a little bittersweetly. He remembers asking his dad if he could have a pair a few days after Clark told him the secret to start forging his own secret identity. Having them now in his possession doesn’t have the same level of excitement that he imagined feeling. At least it does make him feel better compared to a few moments ago when he didn’t have them. 

The woman comes back out the glass doors behind her desk and hands Clark an empty plastic card with Jon’s name, grade, student ID number, a barcode, and a black rectangle where it’s assumed his picture should go. “We’d usually take your picture now but all students must have their uniforms on during the photo. His uniform is still being tailored due to you being a last-minute. Don’t lose that because tomorrow when you pick up his uniform he’ll have to get his picture printed on it. The card will also be used to gain access to his classroom and our other facilities. His lunch money will also be stored on the card so if he loses it someone might steal it to buy things. Any questions?”

Clark blinks as he looks at the card in his hands. “Uh… Yeah… How do I put money on the card? You see I wasn’t aware that he couldn’t use cash to pay for it-”

“He can use cash if that’s all he has for today but when you get home you’ll need to login to his school’s portal account and transfer money into the card. We do not recommend any of our students to carry cash on them because it could get stolen easily.” She explains dryly as she moves away from the tall desk to see the new student. “... He looks just like his father.”

Jon doesn’t think she’s complimenting him but it’s a really nice thing to say so he appreciates it. “Thank you very much!” He gives her the widest smile he can muster and is still smiling when she rolls her eyes. 

The receptionist opens her mouth again to say something to Jon’s father but turbulent monotonous chuff noises reverberate outside the building interrupting her. Jon recognizes the sound immediately and runs to the door to look out the glass. Outside a black Helicopter with a famous Silver W on the side lands close to the ground but never touches the front lawn below it as Damian Al-Ghul Wayne elegantly drops down in his school uniform. He doesn’t even bother to look behind him while the aircraft departs back from whence it came and walks towards the building with unadulterated apathy cast upon his features. 

Excitement and happiness flood Jonathan’s systems and explodes outward as he begins to scream in pure joy. It was almost as if all the negative emotions he’s been bottling up inside him from the worst few days of his life disappeared and without a second thought the seven-year-old violently slams his body out the front door and he sprints his little heart out towards the last remaining friend in his life. It’s a depressing fact that he really only has one friend left in the world but the thought doesn’t have time to linger as he immediately spreads his arms out to hug him.

Predictably he’s nearly punched in the face before the billionaire’s son remembers where he is and turns his fist into an open palm to hold the younger boy away at arm’s length. “-Tt- Jonathan, what have I told you about hugging?”

Actively waving his hands at the older boy Jon responds, “That you hate it, but that doesn’t matter right now because holy cow Dami you’re here and I’m so happy you’re here because this week was freaking crazy and you’re wearing the school uniform! That means that you’re going to be in the same school as me and we’ll get to have classes together- I mean probably not because you’re an older big kid but maybe we can have recess or lunch or see each other in the hall! I can teach you to play all the awesome schoolyard games and then we can even go home together sometimes or meet up before class and talk because I don’t get to see you that often and I now I get to see you every day! Dami you don’t know how happy I am to see you right now-”

“Yes Jonathan, I know I’m God’s gift to the world but would you please stop talking for a minute so that I may head inside the building.” Damian interrupts, letting go of the boy’s countenance. 

Jonathan immediately latches onto the older boy, who groans and accepts his fate, as he continues to ramble spasmodically into the velvety material of the ten-year-old’s blue blazer. Seeing that he’s not going to be able to pry the child off in a nonaggressive method while in front of the students who have stopped to watch them he proceeds to march into the building while easily dragging the extra weight on his shoulder. The boy’s ramblings hand transformed into even more incoherent sobs as Damian walks through the double doors of the visitor’s entrance to face a tense Clark Kent and a stunned receptionist.

“I believe you’ve misplaced something.” The older child announces gesturing to the boy who has begun to stink down his body and is now embarrassingly hugging Damian’s shins while the rest of his body is on the floor in full-blown tears. 

The receptionist gives Clark a judgemental stare and the hero absolutely shrinks under it. “I-Uh… He didn’t take moving real well?” He defends as he kneels down to try and pick up his son. “Jon, Sport, are you okay? What happened? You can tell me.”

“You make it sound as though I hurt him.” 

“Sorry, I didn’t mean for it to come out like that-”

The blonde lightly pushes past Clark and bends down to address the heir in an attentive and courteous manner. “Mr. Wayne, do you know this boy?” 

He rolls his emerald eyes at the woman’s obvious attempt to placate him and with an extremely long and exacerbating sigh he says, “I do. He…”

“He’s the only friend left I possess in this cruel and malevolent universe!” Jonathan cries out before returning to his previous sobs. 

“Yes, let’s go with that.” Damian agrees before looking down at the boy by his feet. “I’m surprised, Jonathan; you’re finally applying my advice when it comes to your limited vocabulary. Good job.”

Jon blurts out something resembling gratitude in the middle of his weepings but it doesn’t translate to proper English in his current emotional state. His dad does his very best to pry his son off of his friend and succeeds for the most part but now the child is lying limply in his arms aside from the constant crying. “Jonathan, it’s okay. Daddy's here and your friend is here too. What’s wrong? Are these sad tears?”

Damian snarls at the pathetic sight and heaves Jonathan up by the color of his tank top and excuses the both of them away from the reception desk much to the protest of the boy’s father. He heads to a study room with a soundproof wall and a table and swipes his student ID along the scanner to open the glass sliding door, dragging both of them inside. The taller youth drops the other down on a plastic chair and immediately slaps the boy across the face with the back of his hand. Jonathan is obviously not hurt by the action in the slightest but the force of it is enough to shock him into his normal reserved whimperings rather than his newly acquired bellowing wails. 

“Now that THAT’S over with do you care to explain what that entire fiasco was about?” He demands, looking down on the boy in the chair. 

Jonathan does his best to quiet down his sniffles long enough for him to talk and answer his friend. “S-sOowwwrii-Ss-- I -Huangh- I waaa- AA- WAahaAhH- I’m ju-usss so h-ha-pp-pp-happy dat yowr’ ere en I wa jus so verwy s-saaaAAd l-latly becaus- becaus- cause my enti- lif waAsss a- li-l-lie and I dun have frwiends an-and I’M JUST FEELING TOO MUCH! I dun- dunno wh-at wrong cau-cause I’m really happy bu-buUuTt I’m not…”

Damian stands there unemotionally and using his skills of discussion attempts to decipher whatever in the nine hells came out of Jonathan’s mouth. “If any of what little language you have left in you is intelligible, you’re saying is that your recent trials have left you depressed and seeing a familiar face again that you can trust has made you so blissful you became emotionally overstimulated.”

“I- I dunno -th- Words!”

“Okay, so I’m correct, good to know.”

“H-How do I stop cr-cr--iiiing-” 

With another sigh, Damian reaches into his messenger school bag and pulls out a neat handkerchief. He lays it flat on his shoulder before pulling Jon up for a short embrace with the snot riddled face carefully situated on the protected joint. He awkwardly pats the boy on the back in a poor attempt at comforting him as he cries into his shoulder. If past experience is anything to go by then Jonathan’s only solace in his current state are these shameful hugs. 

Thankfully for Damian, it doesn’t last long at all as Jon begins to settle down even further after the action. Seeing as Jonathan has finally stopped spouting out those pathetic tears Damian drags Jonathan out of the room back to the front desk on the other side of the hall where Clark and the receptionist stare at the two boys rigidly. In one swift motion the young Wayne hands both Jonathan and the soiled handkerchief at Superman with a terrifying glare.

“Be sure to burn that.” He orders before looking back at Jonathan. “I’ll see you at lunch.”

“Okay!” Jon responds as Damian leaves him to head to class. 

The receptionist gawks at the retreating child then to her right where Jonathan and Clark were standing. “You… Your son is friends with Damian Wayne?”

Confused Clark answers, “Yes, Damian and Jon have been pals for I think about a month now. I am awfully puzzled as to why he’s all the way over here in West-Reeves rather than Gotham Academy.”

As the man makes a mental note to call Bruce later and have a chat about privacy the young woman quickly changes her entire previous indifferent demeanor towards them and becomes the most attentive receptionist in the entire tri-state area. “Oh, I see! I’m sure little Jonathan is very excited to start his first day in a new school now that he knows his friend will be joining him. Isn’t that right sweetie?”

Jon agrees, nodding his head vigorously enough to almost throw his newly acquired glasses to the floor. Without even waiting for the man’s permission she leads them down the enormous winding halls past many trophy cases and some placards with names on it. Clark notices that one of the golden plates mounted on the walls has Lex Luthor’s name etched on it and directly next to it was another, much newer one, with Bruce Waynes on it. Clark sighs as he rubs his forehead, feeling a headache coming on as they continue walking to Jonathan’s class. 

The classroom is in the back of the school next to the playground entrance and it’s decorated with colorfully decorated pieces of construction paper with many childishly written names on it and what they like. The blonde woman knocks on the door and after hearing a polite welcome opens the door to reveal a class full of children his age in neatly ironed uniforms sitting at wooden tables attentively. A young Asian woman with a bob hairstyle dressed in a brown suit greets them.

“Ah, you must be Jonathan! Hello, I’m Mrs. Miller and I’ll be your teacher for the year. Would you like to come inside?” She asks from her desk.

Jonathan nods and enthusiastically skips inside as she stands from her seat to exchange a few words with the receptionist and his father. After a few minutes of quiet chattering, the two leave, and the teacher comes back inside with Jonathan’s backpack where she stands behind the boy. “Everyone, I know we’re still early into the new school year but let’s give a warm welcome to our new classmate Jonathan.”

The class erupts in a very monotonous, “Welcome Jonathan” with a few of the students being more energetic than others but it was all very unenthusiastic overall. Mrs. Miller is obviously not impressed by this and makes them all do it again to a more sarcastic but extremely passionate, “WELCOME JONATHAN!”

Seeing as this was the best she was going to get out of her class she holds back a tired sigh and smiles down at Jonathan. “Would you like to greet the class back and tell the class something interesting about yourself?”

Blue eyes scan the classroom at the expectant and judgemental gazes but he does his best to smile. He needs to make the best of it! This new situation he’s in is not ideal, sure, but that doesn’t mean that he can’t be positive. He already spent enough time wallowing in sadness and if he reaches deep inside of himself he’ll find the strength to make new friends and maybe enjoy it here. 

“Hi y’all, I’m Jonathan Kent and I moved here from my family’s farm-” He begins to say but is stopped by the growing murmurs of the class. 

“Did he really say _y’all_?”

“I know we’re in the south but what’s with the accent?”

“A farm, really?”

“No interrupting!” Mrs. Miller scolds firmly and signals for Jonathan to continue.

Frowning, Jon bites back against their chides with, “It ain’t very nice to make fun of the way I talk.”

“ _AIN’T_! He said ain’t!” A girl in the front of the class hollers laughing in her seat.

“Well Howdy there Jonno!” One boy in the back of the class mocks in an outrageously fake southern drawl much to the amusement of the rest of the class.

“Alyssa, Mathew! We do not make fun of our classmates. I don’t care if it’s the beginning of the school year, I will give you and anybody else who’s being rude a write-up.” Mrs. Miller reprimands cutting the introduction short. “Now apologize to him.” The two mutter half-hearted apologies making it clear they’re more sorry that they’re more sorry about getting in trouble rather than making fun of the new student. “Good. Jonathan, you’ll sit next to Georgia at the blue table. Do you like blue Jonathan?”

Jon nods a bit less enthusiastically than he was previously due to the mediocre turn of his introduction to the school. “Blue is my favorite color.” 

The teacher smiles and sets his bag down at the table closest to the door next to a tall dark-skinned girl with hickory colored hair. She gives him a small wave which he returns but looks down at his lap, holding the bag close to him. A piece of bright blue construction paper is placed in front of Jonathan by Mrs. Miller and she instructs him to write his name down and draw things he likes around it. While Jon is doing that the rest of the class is told to work on an assignment about reading clocks. 

“So, a farm huh?” Georgia asks quietly with a polite grin as the boy digs through his bag for his box of store-brand crayons. 

“Y-yeah.” He answers hoping that she isn’t going to make fun of him; he never knew that it was something bad.

Another boy with curly dirty blond hair sitting across from Jon leans forward enthusiastically. “My mom takes me to a farm to ride our horse on the weekend! Did you have any horses on your farm?”

Shanking his head he answers, “No, we had a chicken farm. I did know a girl who’s dads own a horse ranch. They were really nice and the horses are really fast.”

“That’s so cool!” The girl says then looks at his Superman backpack. “You like Superman?”

“Yeah! I mean who doesn’t?” 

“I don’t.” A red-haired girl with long wavy hair and dark freckles says next to the blond boy. “I mean Superman is cool and all but he’s all we hear about around here. Have you guys heard of Batwoman?”

“Here we go.” The horse-loving boy groans as he writes on his paper. “You need to shut up about Batwoman.”

“Benjamin, we do not use that kind of language in this classroom.” Mrs. Miller calls as she walks by. 

“Yes mam,” Benjamin mutters then turns to the freckled girl. “Sorry, Ava.”

“Apology accepted.” She huffs and continues. “But anyway, Batwoman is the bestest most pretty hero ever! I mean there’s not a lot of news about her but come on! She’s like an awesome ninja and she has red hair! Plus I heard that Batwoman is Batman’s wife or sister!”

“She can’t be both, that would be totally gross.” Georgia cringes pushing away the finished assignment. “Besides, he’s totally married to Catwoman.”

Jon tilts his head in confusion because he knows that Mr. Wayne doesn’t have a wife or a sister. “I don’t think Batman has either of those.”

“That’s because he’s totally dating Superman, you guys!” Benjamin nearly shouts causing Jonathan to snap his red crayon in half.

“What?!” He hollers as he stands up from his desk and slams his palms on the tabletop causing his glasses to slide down his face.

“Wow Jonathan, I know what he’s saying is completely crazy but you don’t have to yell.” Ava chuckles. “I mean there is no way that’s true. My mommy is smart and she says that it’s only stuff people say to sell papers!”

“Well, what does your mom know?”

“Guys, this is a dumb thing! Let’s talk about something else!” The short-haired girl interrupts and leans closer to Jonathan as he sits back down. “So Jonathan what’s it like where you’re from? Where is it? Is it far?”

The young boy fixes his glasses and finishes drawing the Superman symbol with the remains of his crayon as he reminisces about his old home. “I used to live in Hamilton Country! It’s really neat and everyone is super nice! There was an ice cream shop that gave out free scoops on holidays and everyone either had their own farm or worked in town. Next to my old school, there was a really creepy swamp where kids would go in and tell scary stories but sometimes we hear stories about big kids that go in but never come out.”

“That’s really creepy!” Ava squeaks listening intently.

“I know right?! And in the wintertime, me and my friends would go into the woods to pick out our own Christmas tree while our parents would cut it down. It’s also the best, most awesome place in the world to build snowmen! There was so much snow last year Kathy and I climbed up the pine trees and jumped to see who could make the deepest snow angel.”

“Wouldn’t that hurt?” Benjamin asks in amazement. 

“Hurt? Nah, I mean if there was a branch or rock nobody saw but snow is really fluffy! Sometimes I would get a bruise or scrape my knees, but a little pain doesn’t mean anything. Actually this year I was going to try and climb to the top highest tree and jump down to see just how deep into the snow I can go!”

“Dude, that’s really crazy! You could get hurt!”

“What, I can’t get hur- I mean…” He pauses to think of an excuse as to not reveal his newly developed powers. “It was just a thought. It would have been really cool if someone did it. It’s not like I could ever do it, plus I think my mom would get really mad if she ever found out.”

“But that does sound awesome,” Georgia comments twirling her straight hair. “Too bad we don’t have stuff like that in Metropolis. I don’t think my dad would let me jump off our highrise for snow angels.”

“Y-yeah… There’s none of that stuff here.”

“All of that stuff sounds so cool! I would love to live on a farm and play in the snow! Why would you move here?” The blonde boy asks with a huge genuine smile.

Jonathan sighs as he moves on to draw a picture of his old farm and tells out the excuse his mother taught him to say when asked this question. “My parents work for the Daily Planet and wanted to move closer to work. W-we just up an-and one day sold the farm and moved here. It was almost as if it happened in an instant… Heh…” He dryly chortles at his own inside joke. “Ya know, like ya do. One day I was thinking about how me and my friends would see each other again after the summer and play at recess when the next thing I know I was shipped off to Metropolis of all places! Isn’t that funny?”

“Uh… Not really?”

“It isn’t! I know it isn’t! They didn’t even tell me, I never even got a choice! All I know is now is that I woke up one day in a strange city and was told it would be my new home! That everyone I knew was gone and I wouldn’t be able to see them again and I never even got to say goodbye or ask why it all happened or why did they do that to me! Did I mean nothing to them? Was all that time ju-just useless! If all they wanted to do was hurt me there are faster ways to do it than to just pretend everything was okay!”

The child feels his chair pull out and is met with the concerned brown eyes of his teacher who hold out a tissue box to him. Jon reaches underneath his lenses to feel tears pouring down his face and goes to grab a tissue. Mrs. Miller takes off the red frames from his face and cleans them with a piece of cloth from her pocket as the other kids at the table begin to apologize. 

“Ohmigosh I didn’t mean to make him cry!”

“What did we do?”

“He was fine earlier, it wasn’t us!”

“It’s nobody’s fault, moving is a really difficult thing for a lot of kids.” The woman answers as she picks up Jonathan’s crayon box and paper as she leads him to the hall. She squats down so that she can maintain eye level with the crying boy who is obviously doing his best to stop the flow of tears welling from his eyes. “It’s okay Jonathan, you can cry as much as you like. Here, how about you finish your picture out here, and when you’re ready you can come back inside and join us.”

“I’m sorry- I- I don’t want to cry, I don’t usually cry-”

“No, Jonathan. You’re not in any kind of trouble; don’t apologize for feeling sad. Moving must’ve been really rough on you. Would you like me to stay out here with you?” Jon shakes his head and slides down the floor with the box of tissues as he does his best to stop crying. “Alright then. Cry all you would like too. Just don’t leave this spot and if you need anything or just want to come back inside the classroom then go head. Okay?”

Jon nods his head and Mrs. Miller goes inside the room, making sure to leave the door open for him. The young Kent boy sniffles in his place at the floor beating himself up internally for how he’s reacting. He thought that he cried enough already but it’s clear to him that he hasn’t. He isn’t usually a kid that cries a lot so the fact that he started bawling his eyes out twice today over nothing makes him feel terrible. He thought he was doing okay since he hasn’t cried since the day he woke up. 

What makes him feel even worse now was that his tablemates were trying to be nice to him and he blew it by making everything awkward. Now Jon knows that they wouldn’t possibly want to be friends with a kid who cries for no reason. The seven-year-old spent almost an hour out in the hall trying to stop his tears and finish his pictures. When he finally built up the courage to step inside the classroom they were in the middle of silently completing a subtraction worksheet. Mrs. Miller kindly escorts him back to his seat where his classmates awkwardly avoid talking to him and giving him nervous looks out the side of their eyes. 

The rest of that morning continued in a similar fashion as the class continues on with their school work. Jonathan wasn’t really paying attention to what was happening around him; he just drifted through the day as if he wasn’t the one living it. Like he locked himself into his head and let someone else pilot his life until he could get a hold of himself. When lunchtime finally came around the entire class arranged themselves into a single file line and were taken out of the building through a side door. Jonathan was confused as to why he had to leave school just to eat lunch but the answer became clear when they entered a round building that appears to be composed entirely of windows with the words, “ **Cafeteria** ” in bold letters. Immediately when Jon is inside he is immediately shocked by the sight in front of him. 

There were several circular kitchen islands with chefs working at grills making custom orders for children waiting on the other side of the counter. The tables were also fancy in a sense Jonathan couldn’t really describe if asked because they were just so different than what he was used to. If he really had to put it into words he would describe the set up as an extremely fancy mall food court where everything was made of glass or clear plastic. Some of the seatings had beautifully trimmed trees growing around them and there was even a second floor filled with more of the same types of seatings with a glass ledge overlooking the bottom floor. 

He looks around him to discover that his classmates have all scattered to different serving areas to get their own meals leaving him to fend for himself. Quickly his eyes explore the large cafeteria around him and he practically skids his way across the wooden floor to a lunch line in the back that is built into the wall and closely matches what he’s used to from a cafeteria. Now that he’s back to some form of normalcy Jonathan begins to search for a place to sit and then promptly throws that notion out the window. 

Even though it’s only been a week since the school year started for the students of West Reeves Private Institution many of them have already melded themselves into their own cliques. Even though the elementary sector of the school is composed of children under the age of twelve many of them have already learned the importance of interacting with people who will benefit them in the future or are close to their parent’s company. Jon can already tell that he’s going to have a problem picking a table to sit at after he gets his food. Jonathan apprehensively stands in the lunch line as they get their meals and can’t help but gawk at the meals being placed before him. 

Now, Jonathan knows what a good meal is supposed to look like. Hamilton Elementary wasn’t some run-down dirty public school that served slop like one would see school lunches portrayed in cartoons. All of their meals consisted of fresh greens grown by the local farmers, meat without preservatives, eggs from pastured chickens, and fresh milk. Okay, maybe not that fresh in hindsight but the point still stands that he was used to good school lunches. What was in front of him right now was not a school lunch; honestly he doesn’t know what it was but there was salmon and pasta that had extremely good melty cheese on it. He would call it mac and cheese but it was way too fancy to be the same thing. 

Jon stood there widened at the meals being provided to him in shock when he’s rudely pushed from behind by a very impatient classmate. “Hey, keep walking!”

“Sorry!” He squeaks out as he grabs a tray and rushes up the line. He doesn’t see a price next to the meal, or anywhere now that he looks around the stainless steel serving area. Jon prays that the money his parents gave him that morning would cover the cost of this meal; he thinks he’s seen food like this at Damian’s birthday party. That means that it must cost a lot of money to make. 

Near the register sat a selection of drinks in the refrigerator and absentmindedly Jon reaches for the milk he’s so used to drinking with his meals. Suddenly his stomach churns violently and his throat seizes up. He slaps a small hand over his mouth to stop himself from regurgitating all over the counter, nearly dropping his tray, and dry heaves onto the floor. One of the lunch attendants rushes over to Jonathan’s side as the children around him recoil away from him disgustingly. The attendant is talking calmly to Jonathan but he can’t hear anything as it sounds muffled again. He can’t even see anything even though he knows his vision is working fine but another retch courses through him and shakes him to his core causing his glasses to drop off his face. 

He was fine earlier, so why is he suddenly extremely sick?

Then he remembers that he was reaching for the milk. He’s never had such a volatile reaction to the drink before but that was when he thought that it was okay. He never reacted to milk this terribly but now that he thinks about it there hasn’t been any milk in his house since he’s moved to Metropolis. His parents must have known something like this might have happened to him if they brought a carton of that stuff home. Jon just hopes that he’s not developing some sort of fear against milk of all things because that would suck; it’s his favorite drink. He knows that this milk is safe so he doesn’t know why his body is reacting this way. He feels a hand gently rub circles into his back and manages to calm his convulsions down and his hearing tunes back into the world around him.

“Is he okay? What happened?” An older sounding male asks, who Jon correctly concludes is the lunchroom attendant. 

“He’s just severely lactose intolerant. It must have been the smell of the cheese in the pasta that caused this reaction.” A familiar voice explains. Jon looks over and sees Damian kneeling down next to him with his hand on his back.

“That wasn’t in his file-” The attendant begins to say but it cuts off.

“That sounds like a mistake on your part,” Damian replies, standing Jonathan to his feet. “Come on Jonathan, let’s go.”

The older man gets in front of the two to stop them from heading back into the dining area. “Wait, he should see a nurse, he still looks pale.”

“He’s _fine_. I can take care of him.” The older boy snarls and pushes past the adult without too much of a hassle causing many of the students in the cafeteria to break into hushed prattle as Damian and Jon pass by. Well it was more like Damian was passing by and Jon was just being ragdolled around because he was still feeling queasy. 

The older boy hauls the younger up the stairs into the second-floor seating area and to the back corner, or maybe it was the front because it was closer to the front door, at a table where Jonathan can see Damian’s backpack is situated. The young heir drops his companion onto the seat facing the glass wall while Damian sits directly across from him facing the ledge where he can see the entire cafeteria. He reaches into his messenger bag and tosses Jonathan a cold black metal bottle filled with water. Jonathan sips it slowly with a high blush burning his cheeks embarrassed that he got sick in front of everyone and Damian had to help him out. 

When the anxiousness finally settles down he hands it back to Damian, whipping his mouth his bare arm to which the other boy scoffs and hands him a handkerchief similar to the one he had earlier in the morning. Jon uses the crisp cloth to clean his mouth while his friend begins talking. “You’re acting rather odd today, but I guess that’s understandable seeing as you had quite the ordeal last week.”

“Y-yeah.” Jonathan mummers staring into his lap dolefully. “I thought I was feeling better but moving to a new place and school is just really sad.”

Damian nearly spits out the juice he was sipping on as he begins to let out a pernicious laugh. Jonathan scowls and crosses his arms waiting for the male to stop ridiculing him to scold, “It’s not funny!”

“I-wait, HehahHA!” The boy interrupts himself by holding his gut and bending forward in his chair as he continues to mock Jonathan without having to utter a single word. Eventually, he holds himself together and slyly crosses his legs as he leans forward with an elbow on the table with a mocking leer. “I’ll admit, I of all people understand how difficult it is to be suddenly whisked away into a strange land filled with unfamiliar faces, but that should be the least of your worries.”

The comparison doesn’t make Jonathan feel any better, but he guesses that Damian would understand because that’s how the two met in the first place. “What do you mean?” 

“What do I mean? Jonathan, do you not understand what happened to you to cause those circumstances in the first place?” He calmly asks, staring at Jon like he’s an idiot.

“I know that a really mean villain caused my entire freaking life to be a lie and none of my friends really cared for me just like you said!” Jon grits through his teeth, hating how Damian is looking down on him. “Are you going to start bragging and being a complete jerk-face! Tell me I’m stupid for not noticing anything?”

“It would be completely redundant seeing as your own novice deduction skills have already come to the conclusion.” He sighs and stabs a fork into his salad. “And that’s not what I was referring to, but it is related.” He pauses to take a bite of his food causing Jonathan to quickly grow impatient with his friend. “No, it’s the fact that you’ve been continuously poisoned that should worry you. Father and half the Justice League spent three days in their headquarters extracting it out of you and you could be facing permanent corollary effects in the foreseeable future.”

“What? I don’t remember any of that happening!” Jon nearly shouts when he’s flicked between the eyes. 

“-Tt- Settle down Jonathan, we’re in public. We might be secluded but you never know who might be listening.” Damian scolds, taking another bite of his meal. “And of course you don’t remember it happening. You were unconscious before you even entered the Hall of Justice.” He explains as if the information bored him.

“I was where-!”

“Jonathan, do I have to gag you?” Damian hisses with a glare. 

The younger boy immediately shuts his lips and murmurs a small, “No, sorry, I’ll be quiet.”

“Good. Anyways, according to the notes I stole from the Batcomputer, the bioweapon that villain put in you was part of a plot to free his compatriots by manipulating an alien race to poison you. It’s convoluted and took much too long to be an effective place, but the long game is usually the most successful one. The point is that it’s probably why your powers don’t make any sense.”

“What about my powers?”

“It’s like Manchester Black, the villain who caused all this, spent years tampering with your development. Now that he’s gone and you’ve been freed of the toxin in your system who knows what’s going to happen. You’ve been living with that stuff inside you all your life so this is most likely the first time in your life that you are entirely yourself, speaking in a purely physical sense. I doubt he had any effect on that bombastic personality of yours.” Damian elaborates finishing his salad and moving on to his tomato soup. “Didn’t you find it odd that the only power you have, invulnerability, came at a time your life was in danger when no one expected you to develop any abilities until your mid-teens like your father? That was most likely the work of the poison trying to preserve its host.”

“Huh…” Jon blurts out taking in all of this information. “I guess? I mean it’s probably good that it happened or I’d be dead a billion times over right now.”

“Exactly, yet the fact that you were focused on the social implications of what you went through is immensely hilarious. There is no reason to be as upset as you were by that because this is for the best.” Damian concludes as he takes a sip from his glass. 

Blood rushes to his face in rage as he exclaims at his words. “How is this for the best?! I live in Metropolis away from all my friends and I can never go back because they were evil or something!”

“Please, yell louder. Surely that will make sure no one can hear you.” The other sarcastically retorts. 

“Sorry,” Jonathan whispers as he nervously looks around to see no one paying attention; actually, now that he looks around there aren’t really many people on the second floor and the ones that are actively avoiding them. “But, like, I know you don’t really care about this cause you said you don’t miss your home, family, and pet-”

“Companion.”

“Whatever. You said you didn’t miss them because you knew you’d see them again one day. I- I don’t even get to go back just to visit. They didn’t hurt you. They didn’t only show you kindness only to stab you in the back. You weren't told one day that all your friends weren’t your friends and just wanted to use you.” Jonathan laments, slouching into his seat. 

“I would beg to differ but we are not here to talk about me. Jonathan, I feel like we’re getting a bit redundant with this conversation,” Damian responds, putting his utensils down and leans both of his arms forward to face him. “You already shed these tears before over myself during the treehouse debacle. You even shed these tears over this very situation, so why is it now that you’re so downtrodden? The only difference is that you’re in a new location under different circumstances. I believe my companionship is worth more than all of your old friends and there is also the fact that you’re in _Metropolis_ ; The city of Superman. I very much hate to admit my own shortcomings, however when I was devising our plan to become vigilantes together the only problem I had was finding a starting point. I am not so overconfident to believe that you could survive a day in Gotham on patrol, yet not ignorant enough to be satisfied protecting Hamilton County.

“Metropolis is the perfect starting point to begin doing on the field training for our careers. The crime rate is extremely low thanks to the prominence of Superman but not so mundane as to be a perfect utopia without conflict. There is also a good number of opportunities for us to be alone seeing as our fathers are soon going to be off-world for about three days to a week for a JLA mission involving the Watchtower.”

“... The Watchtower?”

“I’m guessing your father never mentioned that either; That’s fine. Anyways the mission is scheduled later in the month so we need to finally get serious about your training.”

“Dami, just because I already cried about it doesn’t make it hurt less. I… I can’t even be too mad at my old home. I only have good memories and even though I’m told they’re bad, that they did bad things to me, I can’t just not feel bad! I… I just feel confused and sad and I wish I could just be angry and get over it but I’m not. I don’t know what to call what I’m feeling cause I never felt it before.” The boy tries to explain clutching his heart and feeling the familiar swell in his throat that indicates that he was definitely about to start crying again. 

After a callous but calculated stare, Damian’s emerald eyes soften in a way that Jonathan never knew he was capable of and a certain light slips on his lips to curl them in a way that makes his anxiety dissipate. He looks, in Jonathan’s words, like any other kid. He wasn’t Damian Wayne, the mean boy who made Jonathan’s life exciting; He was now suddenly the kindest person Jonathan has ever laid his eyes upon. The transformation caused a harsh shiver to run through the young boy’s spine and scream warning bells in the back of his head.

Red flags were practically being shoved in front of his blue eyes as Damian uncrossed his legs and intertwined his own fingers together on the glass tabletop in one fluid motion, yet Jon unwillingly ignored them as he was effectively captivated by the boy across from his. He looked at Jon with so much compassion and empathy that he just wanted to melt into that gaze and never come out. 

“Jon, I’m sorry.” The voice says but it’s definitely not Damian’s as he’s never used such a tender tone on him before. “I was being mean. It’s not nice of me to just expect you to get over your complicated feeling so soon.”

“It wasn’t.” He agrees unguardedly as he sits up and stares into the other’s eyes. 

“I promised that I’d be your friend and as your _only_ friend left I should be doing my best to help you rather than chastise you for something you can’t control.” Damian conveys reaching over the table and affectionately wiping the beginnings of tears off of Jonathan’s face with a calloused hand. “While I do want us to begin training it’s more important that we make sure that you’re okay. You’d do the same for me if I was feeling the same way, right?”

“I mean… Yeah, I would.” Jon answers leaning into the touch with closed eyes. 

“Exactly. Let’s just focus on getting you better for now and forget about this silly hero stuff for now. Instead of training at our treehouse Saturday, let’s play some games; you love playing games. The clearing isn’t like your old home but I’m sure it’s similar enough for you to run around as you did at your old home.”

“It would be fun to play games.” He repeats and opens his eyes lazily. “But you want to train.”

If it was possible, Jon didn’t believe it could be so, Damian’s behavior became even more compassionate. “I do want to do that, but we’re a team. I don’t want to train without you because that wouldn’t be fair. I’m doing my best to make sure that I do better as your last remaining friend, and that if that means that I have to hold back my plans then I’ll gladly do it for you. That is only if that is what you want of course, but know I’ll happily oblige to any request you need or desire.” As the young Wayne finishes his sentence he gracefully takes the warm hand away from the boy’s pale face whose eyes have become puffy due to all his crying earlier in the day. 

Damian’s posture and new friendly attitude never changed yet the confiscation of the palm upon his face, a gesture of comfort he so desperately needed now more than ever, left him not cold but utterly freezing. He reaches out with both of his hands, dropping the handkerchief sloppily on the table, to frantically clutching the limb back in his arms. His face goes red with embarrassment as he holds Damian’s hand in his and instantly drops it because he has no idea what he was doing until it happened. “I- uh…” Jon swallows the lump in his throat that he didn’t notice was there until now and tries to continue speaking. “Thank you. That’s really nice of you Dami but I’d feel bad if we only did what I wanted to do.”

“Nonsense Jon,” Damian laughs brightly with none of the cruel connotations his laughter usually carries. “You said it yourself, ‘friends are supposed to care for each other’ and I just want to take care of you right now.”

“I did say that.” The younger boy breathes as he puts his hands in his lap. “That doesn’t mean we only have to do what I want. We can train too like you want on Saturday when we hang out at the fort! Besides, you’ll play with me at recess, right? That’s like five days of playing games and we can still train!”

“You’re right about that, but is that what you want?” The older boy asks with a concerned expression. “It wouldn’t be a good idea to do anything you’re not ready for.”

“I’m ready! I’m, like, totally invincible, I can take it.” Jonathan affirms smiling his first real smile since he got to the school, and maybe since he moved here to Metropolis. 

Damian organizes his empty silverware onto his tray and stands up, Jon unconsciously following his lead, and looks down to him. “That is true. Here-” Damian uses his free hand to hold Jon right hand and pulls him along towards the stairs. “Let’s get you something to eat before recess starts.”

The little boy didn’t even notice himself until his friend mentioned it but he’s freaking starving! “Holy cow, I’m like, super hungry!”

“I bet.”

As the two walk down the stairs Jonathan’s fellow classmate, Georgia, who was sitting at a table next to the staircase notices him walking down. “Hey, it’s Jonathan! The new kid I was telling you guys about. He’s really nice!” She says to her friends sitting with her at the table. 

“The boy holding hands with _Damian Wayne_?” One of her male friends gasps in horror.

“Uh… I guess? I mean it’s not weird to have big kid friends.” She cocks her head to the side at his reaction but doesn’t pay too much attention as she looks back and tries to call out to him with a raised hand. “Hey Jon-”

The second-grader is quickly dragged back down with a fervor by a female friend. “Georgia Bakshi, what the heck are you trying to do; get yourself killed?!”

“I was going to invite him to play kickball. What is up with you guys?” She asks, pulling her arms free and straightening herself in her seat.

A different female friend leans forward and holds a flat hand to the side of her mouth so that no one else could hear her. “Didn’t you hear what happened to the last person that messed with Damian Wayne?”

“I’m not messing with him, I just wanted to invite Jonathan.”

“Well don’t!” Her male friend also screams in a whisper glancing at the duo standing in the lunchline. “If you invite Jonathan then it looks like Damian will follow and we don’t want Damian anywhere near us.”

“Guys, that’s really mean,” Georgia states with a frown. “Besides, isn’t he new too? It’s only been a week into the new school year and it’s Jonathan’s first day. What’s the problem?”

All three of her friends huddle together, making sure that no one could hear them, and the boy begins to explain the problem. “On the first day of school, a group of the big kids went up to him during recess and invited him to play but he rejected all of them.”

“Uh…” Georgia blurts out absolutely confused why this matters. “So he didn’t want to play with the other kids. He’s what, a fifth-grader? It’s not weird to say no if you don’t want to play.” 

“Yeah, but he was really mean!” One of the girls whispers leaning in closer. “So mean that they started crying. One of the girls started crying and went to her brother; Liam Jonhson.”

“Wait… Liam Jonhson? Like, the biggest, meanest, and richest kid in all of West Reeve Elementary? The guy not even the middle schoolers mess with: That Liam Jonhson?!” Georgia nearly shouts feeling the gravity of the situation. All three kids nod wildly at the same time. 

“Yeah, that Liam!”

“The kid must be crazy if he took on Liam, he has a first-degree blackbelt in Taekwondo!” She replies, glancing at Damian Wayne. “How is he still standing? He should be in the hospital!”

“That’s the thing.” The boy says with a shaky voice. “Liam is the one in the hospital.”

“What-”

“It’s true!” The other girl cries pulling her friend’s head back down so as to not draw too much attention. “I was there, I saw the whole thing!” She pulls her long puffy pigtails over her face as she turns back to see the pair heading back up the stairs. “The maniac broke all of Liam’s bones in under ten seconds! I didn’t even get to see him get one hit in before Damian did some weird kung-fu stuff!”

Georgia rolls her brown eyes in disbelief and slouches back in her chair. “Oh come one Samantha, that is totally fake-sounding!”

“Yo, I got it on video.” Another older boy, a fourth-grader, says from the table next to them as he leaves his own group of friends to show the younger kids his smartphone. “It’s freaking terrifying.”

The video begins to play and while the quality is shaky at best Georgia could still tell the gist of what’s happening as the 8 seconds of the entire confrontation begins to play without sound. It was actually a blur that lasted all of five seconds before a previously angry sixth-grade boy standing taller than Damian was on the ground crying with his limbs pointing in different directions. The phone is taken away and the male goes back to his old friends.

Stunned, Georgia could only blink as she processed what she saw and whipped her head around to look at the second floor where Jon and Damian were walking to their seats. “Guys, we gotta save him! Jon doesn’t know what he’s getting into- that kid is crazy!”

“Nope, it’s too late.” The blonde girl says hopelessly. “He’s untouchable now. Damian didn’t even get detention for that cause his father donated a lot of money to the school. I think Jon’s fine but you should probably stay away from him now that he’s close with Damian.”

Georgia’s male friend agrees as he sees that the girl is finally understanding why she shouldn’t invite Jon to play with them. “Exactly, that kid is a demon.”

  
  


(And now for a happy pic of the boy's first day of school together)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In this week's chapter, I remind the audience that Damian Wayne was raised by people who call themselves demons and I work to earn that Jonathan suffering tag. FYI don't think Damian is being sympathetic to Jonathan's plight, I tried to get that across but after rereading it I didn't make it clear enough (At least near the end during his sudden personality change) but I'm not gonna edit it now so....................... ye. Also, if this school seems too rich and unrealistic I can personally vouch that schools like this exist!
> 
> Anyways this is not a happy chapter but it was fun for me to write as it's different than what I have been doing so far. Next week we'll be back to you're regularly scheduled fluff (But the rabbit hole gets deeper). At least you get a cute picture that I obviously quit coloring. My art style is inconsistent at and I'm in that phase it's an amalgamation of shit I'm watching so... yeah. I swear it's only me drawing this and not a bunch of different people. Also, FUCK PROPORTION! Fuck them so hard!
> 
> Next chapter, Damian and Jon begin getting serious about the superhero game!


	12. Planning Our Future Together

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Plans are made on both sides as a storm begins to brew.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi y'all! I got a bit busy this week but nothing insane. So this is more of a transitional chapter and is shorter than the last few but it's mostly just build-up and foreshadowing for future events. There are a lot more of y'all reading this now so... HI and THANK YOU! Glad you're here! And to those that have already been reading this I'm still forever grateful!

Jonathan is not an artist by any definition of the word. The most artistic thing he’s ever created so far in his life is a very complicated rainbow created from colorful cereal, glue, and construction paper. Even then it wasn’t very good and only hung from the refrigerator for a week before it fell apart and had to be tossed out. The child isn’t even musically artistic as the one time he used a recorder his music teacher nearly tossed it out of the room. No child is an expert recorder player, but Jon had to admit he was a really special kind of terrible.

Damian, from what Jon has noticed, is remarkably artistic. He first came upon this knowledge shortly after meeting him when he practically forced a thick folder filled with intricate and colorful diagrams onto him. This fact was later solidified two weeks after meeting him when he expertly used crappy store-brand colored pencils to draw intricately detailed costume designs in what felt like mere moments. During recess, after indulging Jon in whatever game he felt like for that day, he would sit on the bleachers with a large spiral sketchpad and a small box of assorted pencils. Jon was pretty sure all of those pencils were the same but the older boy insisted that each of them was different in shade. Everything he drew was always beautifully realistic and filled with life. Jonathan thought that his only friend’s artistic talents ended at his impeccable drafting skills but he was wrong.

He was so very wrong.

The young boy has never once in his comparatively short life that combat was an art. Martial arts was never a real form of art in Jonathan’s mind because he couldn’t see violence as beautiful. He’s not a pacifist by any sense of the world as brutal displays of violence on tv was honestly the highlight of his days, before his life got incredibly more interesting, especially in a world where superheroes were a thing. He loved seeing bad guys get a good punch in the face and jump for joy when evil creatures are thrown into space, but he never found these displays of power beautiful. Cool, sure, but never beautiful.

The little invincible boy is rapidly amending all of his past notions of what art is because what he’s seeing in front of him right now couldn’t be anything less. It was finally training day and Jonathan was sitting criss-cross-applesauce on the grass under the shade of his treehouse as he watched Damian perform what he said were katas. Apparently, they were movements that have to be performed in a certain order and should not be called, “cool kung-fu stuff.” The older boy made sure to drill that tiny detail into his head after almost an hour of lecturing. 

Damian’s movements were nothing less than elegance personified and dripping with finesse unmatch by anything Jon has seen. Each action was deliberate and made with no hesitation. Every sweep of his long legs, turn of the hip, the tilt of the chin, and strike of his calloused fists moved with a purpose. Even as sweat trickled down his brow and into his eye or how his bare feet scratched against the grass beneath him he never wavered. Damian continued to repeat his katas under the still blazing heat of the fading summer sun in a heavy solid black gi, special martial arts clothes, without pause even as the hours passed by. 

Honestly, Jonathan would have watched him do it all day because he literally couldn’t take his eyes off of him. Just when the Kryptonian thinks he has started to tire of it he’s sucked right back in as the boy’s katas gradually shift to a different style without faltering even once. Damian’s movements were like a performance, a dance even, with how talented he was. His form was made even more beautiful by the fireflies emerging around them becoming invisible with the approaching night sky. It would be an insult to call martial arts anything less than an art after seeing this. Jon was wholly captivated by the spectacle before him that he’s only taken out of it by an incredibly loud groan from above him by their current babysitter, who is hanging halfway out of the air-conditioned treehouse.

The twenty-four-year-old pushes himself off his chest with his lean arms and looks down at the two from his place on the platform with a fatigued expression adorned on his face. “Holy crap Dami-”

“You don’t get to call me that, Grayson.” The young Wayne states in a monotone while never halting his katas. 

“Damian, you’ve been at this for three hours! You’re forcing poor Jon here to watch you do your thing while he sits there doing nothing. Don’t you think he’s getting bored?” Dick asks with a tired tune as he sets his chin on his knuckles. 

Jon stares up at the man with an innocently confused cast and buoyantly replies, “I’m not bored at all. I think he’s pretty!”

Wide cobalt eyes stare down at the small child with an unreadable expression and press his lips in a thin line. After a drawn-out pause of silence from the acrobat, he looks to his little brother who is still practicing his martial arts without setting aside any of his concentration towards what his companion just said then back to Jon. He rapidly slams his head on the wooden ledge causing Jonathan to jump in shock and scramble up the thin ladder to check on the eldest Wayne brother’s head.

“Dick, are you okay!?” He cries out seeing blood trickling down the man’s face. Jon attempts to wipe the blood with his white t-shirt with one hand as he steadies himself on the edge with the other, but is immediately stopped by the young adult who grabs his wrist to stop him. 

“Don’t get your shirt dirty Jon, tis just a flesh wound.” He jokes in a jovial tone and uses his own dark blue shirt to clean himself. “ _Anyways_ , how about you take a break from watching Damian since you’re already up here? It’s really hot outside and I’m sure a nice glass of lemonade will freshen you up.” 

“Okay! Dami, do you want one?” Jon invites pulling his lower body up onto the ledge of the fort looking behind him. 

Damian doesn’t bother to answer as he merely continues to do his exercises. Jon proceeds to crawl inside and sit at the table while the older man leans into the miniature refrigerator to grab a glass bottle filled with lemonade. He pops off the metal cap as he hands it to the young child then proceeds to grab his own before closing the fridge. Dick sits down at the short kid-sized table and takes a long sip of the cool drink then talks to the boy who is taking nervous sips from his own glass. He watches the young boy glance at him and hurriedly looks away when he realizes Dick is watching him as he drums the tips of his fingers on the edge of the bottle. The man puts down his drink in the tabletop, the condensation of his lemonade staining wood, and finally turns to give Jon his full attention. 

“You okay there little buddy?” Dick asks with a pleasant smile.

Jon jumps in his seat at being addressed and looks up at his friend’s older brother with his large curious eyes boring into him. “Um… You… Jason said that you were Robin when you were- like- nine, right?”

He blinks at Superman’s son and glances out the window to see his little brother still doing his thing. Dick turns back to the boy next to him and inquiries, “I think you know the answer, so how about we talk about what’s really on your mind?”

Jonathan blushes high on his cheeks from embarrassment as he tries to continue speaking with the lemonade chilling his fingers. “I… I wanna be a hero too and you were one when you were around my age so I thought maybe you could tell me how you did it but you probably don’t want to so nevermind.” He rambles as the red on his cheeks speaks down to his neck. 

Dick laughs lightheartedly and pats the child on the shoulder trying to ease the tension that was quickly forming between them. “Jon, it’s fine. I don’t mind answering your questions and I think it might even help you in the long run.”

“Reeeeaaaally?” The boy questions in a tone filled with wonderment. 

“Really.” He reaffirms with a sharp nod. “Now, that doesn’t mean that I’m going to tell you to go out there and fight crime, I’m not-- but unlike Jay, I’m not going to talk you out of being a superhero. I don’t think you should go into vigilantism anytime soon but there’s no reason why you can’t when you grow up.”

The boy nods, copying the exact same way the older male did, and begins to ask, “So how did you become Robin? Does Batman just pick you to be Robin or is there a test?”

“Batman never ‘picks’ his Robins per se. I actually kinda forced him to take me on patrols with him.” Dick answers with a nostalgic cast in his eyes. “My parents, before B, died in a tragic way. There was an evil man that hurt my family for dumb reasons and Batman took me in since I had nowhere to go. Many bad things happened to me by that time and all I wanted was revenge. Then I found out B was Batman. He knew that either I would become his partner in crime or I was going to do something terrible alone. So then I became Robin, which was totally my idea and name by the way.”

“Did you ever catch the bad man?”

“Yep, he’s still in jail till this day.”

“I see… How did everyone else become Robin?”

The older man takes a swig of his lemonade before he answers Jon to make sure his throat was cleared. “Jason was taken in by B under different circumstances at around twelve to thirteen. It’s not my story to tell but let’s just say that he needed a family and Batman has a child hoarding problem. Tim, on the other hand, was way too stubborn not to be Robin. He was only nine when he discovered all of our secret identities and practically forced the Robin mantel onto himself.”

Jon nods in understanding then pauses. He looks outside at his friend then back to the man nervously. “Do… Do all Robins have to have dead parents; cause if they do then that wouldn’t be good because Batman is Dami’s dad and he can’t be Robin if Batman is dead.”

Dick nearly chokes on his drink drying not to bust a gut at the hilarious words coming out of the boy’s lips and answers, “No, nonononononononono! No! Gods no. I mean it probably helps but not all Robin’s have dead parents. Both of Tim’s parents are alive and probably well and even if they weren’t it’s not a requirement for being Robin. There aren’t really any requirements for being Robin other than some training and magic.”

“Magic?”

“Magic. Not real magic like Zatana or Shazam but a different kind of magic.” Dick explains with a glint in his eyes. “The kind of magic to make others feel better in the face of danger. When the going gets tough, instead of throwing in the towel, you get right back up and smile. To reassure those who are scared that you’re on their side and a good person. To be the light to Batman’s darkness and ground him back to reality.”

“Uh…” Jon blurts out confused, not really understanding what’s being said to him but not know how to ask for clarification. 

A large hand ruffles itself through Jonathan’s messy black hair and Dick sighs. “Sorry, I guess it’s a bit weird to put into words. Doesn’t really help you, huh?” Jon shakes his head reluctantly causing the man to chuckle. “Hahaha, didn’t think so. Besides, you don’t want to learn how to be Robin, you want to learn how to be Superboy. So Superboy, the first thing you gotta do if you want to be a young hero is to figure out what kind of hero you want to be.”

The child tilts his head to the side in thought as he thinks about what kind of hero he wants to be. He knows that he wants to be just like his father, but if the boy has to be honest with himself he can’t point out what that is. Before he discovered he was Superman’s son the symbol on the hero’s chest never meant hope. It’s terrible to admit but Superman’s message of hope wasn’t what Jonathan liked about him. 

To him, Superman represented a world that a young Jonathan Samuel Kent could never hope to touch even if he spent millions of years searching for a way. Superman was a fantasy that he could go into and just for a few moments pretend that he wasn’t on his farm but free in the sky helping thousands of people with incomprehensible powers. Superman wasn’t hope; he was escapism. 

But then that fantasy was suddenly a reality. That fantasy he surrounded himself with was his life, but at the same time feels further than it ever did before. He remembers spending hours of his days in his old room after helping his father on the farm carefully caressing the pages of old Daily Planet articles staring at the picture of Superman imaging that it was him in those stories instead. 

It’s a hell of a thing to be born into a world that knows that warm embrace of Superman, but it’s another thing entirely to be born in the arms of the Man of Steel. Now when he sees that famous red S he doesn’t think about a world he could escape to because it’s now his life. He doesn’t see hope because all he can see now is Clark Kent, his kind dorky father. He’s proud that his father is Superman, but at the same time he isn’t clear on what that means. His father is Superman, yet he can’t help but separate the two in his head. 

Superman is confident while his dad always second-guesses himself. Superman is strong-willed while his dad usually gives into pressure. Superman is cool while his dad thinks that singing an off-tuned country song in the shower is a decent way to start the morning. His father was always there for him while Superman is a complete stranger. So what would it mean to be a hero like Superman when Jonathan doesn’t know who Superman is? What would it mean to be a hero like his father when he’s nothing like Superman?

“I dunno.” Jon finally answers with a blank expression as he puts the glass on the table and looks down into his lap. “I just want to be a hero; I’ve always wanted to be one. Superman… Superman is my dad so I thought that maybe I could be like him but… I dunno what that means.”

Dick rubs the boy’s shoulder, his hand almost encompassing almost the entire tiny shoulder blade, and softly replies, “It is very mature of you to admit that to yourself Jon and it’s okay if you don’t know yet. It’s a very tough question with many answers, so the fact that you’re unsure is nothing to be ashamed about.”

“I beg to differ.” A new voice says entering the treehouse from the front door.

The two turn to see Damian sit down across from his elder brother with a white towel handing over his shoulders as he continues to dab sweat off of his face. Dick exhales through his nose and leans behind him to grab another bottle of lemonade for his little brother. Sharp green eyes glare at the offending drink then to Jonathan’s half-finished bottle before grabbing both of their flasks and chucking them out of the open with a flourish. 

“Jonathan, that concoction was obviously homemade and didn’t originate from a trusted source so why in the world would you ever drink it especially after what happened!” Damian scolds jabbing a sharp finger into Jonathan’s collarbone.

“But Dick gave it to me and he’s your brother.” Jon defends as his stomach suddenly becomes consumed with severe nausea at the thought someone could have poisoned his drink again. “I-I can trust him r-right?”

Damian shakes his head firmly and hands his young companion “No, no you cannot.”

At his only friend's affirmation, Jonathan’s body immediately convulses onto the ground and involuntarily retches the contents of his stomach onto the ground much to the horror of their caretaker. The man quickly sprints to the bathroom to grab some paper towels while Damian calmly reaches into his bag and pulls out a blue metal water bottle to set on the table and slides it towards the sick boy. Dick comes back with the entire roll of towels and begins to try and comfort Jon to no avail. 

“Damian, what is wrong with you?! Why did you get him all worked up like that!?” The man cries as he pats the child on the back and tries to lead him to the bathroom. “Jon, I swear it’s just lemonade. You know: lemons, sugar, and water. I didn’t put anything else in it.”

“Your promises are empty Grayson. I know for a fact you’re not above spiking drinks with experimental nanotechnology or sedatives.” Damian scoffs as he pulls the sick boy towards him while looking up at the man with a sly grin. “You were probably just waiting for the perfect opportunity to chip him like a dog.”

“Damian, those were different circumstances and I wouldn’t do that to Jon!” Dick argues trying to move closer to both children. “You need to hand him back to me-”

“No, I won’t hand him back to you.” The young Wayne replies opening the metal water bottle and shoving it into Jon’s chest as the heaving begins to subside. “And your circumstances were unfounded at best I might add.”

“You beheaded-” The man stops himself from yelling as he looks down at the child sipping the water with hands so jittery he was spilling water all over him and sinking closer to the older boy behind him. Sky blue eyes that looked at him in wonderment only a few moments ago were now dilated in fear, glancing at Dick Grayson like he was about to harm him. The sight nearly broke his heart in half so he calmed himself down before he said something he would regret. 

Quietly he went back to the restroom to grab some more cleaning supplies and began cleaning the soiled area. Damian meanwhile holds the boy closer to his chest and runs a hand through his hair while Jon does his best to drink the water. The three boys in the room remained in total silence for around fifteen minutes as the oldest male finished up and disposed of all the waste in the bathroom along with putting back the equipment as he sits back in his place across from Damian. With his elbows on the table, Dick holds his face in his hands and drags his palms down his face after an exasperated sigh. 

He shoots his head up and gives the two with an analytical stare before speaking again. “Do you want to test the lemonade?”

“Excuse me?” Damian replies in a confused manner making it obvious that it was the last thing he was expecting to hear from the man. 

“Do you want to test the lemonade? I promise. If it’s poisoned it’s more due to my terrible skills making edible food rather than it being because I want to harm either of you.” Dick elaborates leaning backward to grab the last bottle of lemonade from the minifridge and setting it in front of the two. “Alfred did always joke that I somehow inherited Bruce’s cooking skills.”

Emerald eyes scowl at the glass then dart up to his elder brother with a vengeance. “-Tt- You think I’m a fool.”

“I think you’re many things but right now fool is the least of them.”

“How dare you-”

“Jon, it’s okay if you don’t trust me after all you’ve been through so how about we go get something to drink from someone you can?” Dick questions giving the child the most reassuring smile he can. The boy thinks for a moment and curtly nods his head as he warily glances at Dick, who smiles at the response. “Excellent. So, name everyone that you trust the most and I’ll have them test it since Damian won’t vouch for me.”

“-Tt- This farce is foolish. Jonathan, it’s clear he’s playing you-”

Dick holds his hand out, palm facing forward, as his grin widens. “We’ll see who’s playing who soon but I’m talking to Jon; Jon is a good boy who can answer for himself.”

Said good boy is staring cautiously at the man before deciding that it wouldn’t be harmful at all to answer him. “I trust my mom, my dad, my cousin Kara, all my grandparents, Aunt Lana, Aunt Lucy, Uncle Ron, my cousin Sam even though he’s a baby, and Dami.” He feels like he’s forgetting some people when he suddenly blurts out, “And Tim.”

Damian practically shoves Jon away at the utterance of the name before gripping his upper arm and turns him towards him with a fierce grip that would have bled if Jon wasn’t a Kryptonian. Dick immediately springs into action and tries to pull Jon away from the violent boy, but Damian was too strong for a ten-year-old, and Jon didn’t seem phased at all; Like this was just how their relationship was and he was okay with it.

But it wasn’t okay, especially when Dick has seen his fair share of messed up relationships.

“DRAKE!? You would dare add that lowlife, vile, illegitimate, hideous, wretched _PEST_ to the people you trust next to me?!” The child roars into his companion’s face at the top of his lungs while shaking the other much to the displeasure of their babysitter. 

Jon innocently shrugs and smiles back unphased by the reaction as he already knew that his friend didn’t like his youngest older brother. “Yes! He’s really nice and I have this feeling in my belly that tells me I can trust him. He called it a gut feeling!”

“That heathen drugged and kidnapped you once yet you still trust him?!”

“Damian, this is not how you talk to friends about things that upset you!” Dick screeches distressed, finally freeing Jon from Damian’s grasp and squeezes the small boy to his chest protectively. “Remember what Big Bird taught you!”

The older boy snarls in frustration and throws his towel at the man’s face. “There is literally nothing from that idiotic children’s programing you so desperately keep trying to shove down my throat and poison my mind!”

“Sesame Street is an excellent educational show that teaches you good lessons.”

“It’s childish garbage and you need to stop feeding it into my consciousness, Grayson!” 

“I like Sesame Street.” Jon says as he goes limp to slither out of the hold he’s in. “But it’s for really young kids.”

The older male sighs as he readjusts the boy in his arms and sits Jon up in his lap making sure the child has his arms free. “You two are no fun. Anyways, how about we let’s go to your apartment and ask your mom if she has anything to drink? She’s on your list of people you trust, right?”

Jon makes an affirming noise but wasn’t able to speak as he slid so low against the hold he was in that his upper arms were pressed into the sides of his head causing his arms to hang uselessly above him. Dick readjusts the boy back upright before setting him on the clean ground next to him and directs him to, “Head to the teleporter and we’ll be right behind you.”

He tilts his head confusingly as he stands up staring at the Wayne duo asking, “Why don’t we go at the same time?” Damian begins to stand to follow Jon, but Richard grabs his little brother’s wrist and pulls him back down. “I just need to talk to him about some personal family stuff, nothing too serious but it’s a bit of a private conversation.”

Jon stares his friend who looks annoyed but begrudgingly signals for him to go ahead of him by darting his eyes to the other room. The young boy nods and walks to the bedroom with the teleporter mat and presses the blue button that will take him home. Blue light floods his vision gradually until the image of his parents’ closet replaces the white light. Jon slides open the door to find his father on the other side of the wooden frame was Jonathan’s father who was examining tube socks that have been laid out on the bed. 

He immediately notices his son and kneels down with his arms wide open to greet him. Jon takes his cue and leaps into his father’s tight embrace to be lifted up and spun around gleefully. The child laughs gleefully as the man holds him up above his head excitedly asking, “Hi Dad, what are you doing home so early?”

Clark grins, setting his son down on the floor and answers, “There was a power outage at the office so everyone was sent home a bit earlier than usual. How about you, Sport; I thought you weren’t going to be home until dinner?”

Jon hugs his father’s waist as he replies, “I was but I got sick, so Dick said we should get drinks here. They’ll be here soon.”

The boy can physically feel his father freeze at his son’s words and gently pries him off his sweatpants to look him in the eyes. “Sick? Was it similar to the milk incident at school?” Jon thinks for a moment before nodding his head. “I see. I’m sorry about that Jon; I thought we made it clear with everyone that you were not allowed to have milk anytime soon.”

“I didn’t drink milk.” He elaborates looking up at the tall man. “It was lemonade. Dick made lemonade and then Dami said there might be something in it so it made me sick.”

“Dami said that?”

“Yeah. Apparently it happened before so Damian doesn’t trust him meaning I shouldn’t either.” Jon explains as he turns away from his father casually and heads to the kitchen to greet his mother, leaving the Man of Steel to think about what he just said. He sees the woman at the kitchen counter on her laptop and trots over to hug her waist. “Hi mom!” He cheers as Lois puts her hot coffee cup down to greet her son back with an affectionate head rub and shoulder pat. 

“Hey there Jon, what are you doing back from your playdate so early?”

“Dick said we should all get drinks from you because I trust you so that’s why I’m here.”

Lavender eyes look to her bedroom entranceway with an inquisitive glance then back down at the little boy watching her expectantly. He watches his mom shrug and moves to the fridge with Jon still clinging to her hip to grab a pitcher of grape Koolaid to pour for her son and limps to the cabinets to grab several plastic cups. She pours the purple liquid inside each of the cups, making sure to reserve the cup with the Superman logo for her son, just in time for the sound of the teleporter to be heard from the other room.

Jon lets go of his mother to clutch the heavy cup with both of his hands and slowly walks to the table so as to not spill its contents. Damian appears next to him seconds later as the child sets the juice on the counter much to the other boy’s disgust. “When you told me your new home was small I didn’t expect it to be the size of my previous bedroom?”

“Well hello to you to Damian.” Lois teases from the kitchen as she walks up to him to hand him a Batman-themed plastic cup and sets a glass down on the table. 

The older child glares at her before reluctantly grumbling, “...Hello Mrs. Kent.” 

“There we go.” She smiles as she heads back to work on her laptop and puts on her headphones.

Green-eyes roll as soon as her back is turned to them then places his attention to Jonathan and more importantly the drink in their hands. “What is this vile concoction?”

“It’s grape juice,” Jon answers with a smile as he gets Damian’s cup from the counter and hands it to him as he pulls out the chair next to his. The older boy sits down and Jon quickly pushes his seat in before hopping into his own chair.

“I don’t know why you insist on doing that,” Damian states, staring at the liquid and watching Jonathan take a sip. Seeing that the other likes it, he proceeds to taste a minuscule amount; letting it dance on his tongue. He deems it the seventh-worst thing he’s ever had to drink since coming to this country between Hawaiian Punch and Sunny D. It doesn’t make his teeth feel acidic or squeaky so he proceeds to continue ingesting the fluid. “This is unquestionably not juice. I’ve had grape juice before and it’s not this...”

“Sugary?”

“Artificial.”

Jonathan shrugs at his friend’s obvious distaste for Koolaid and continues drinking his own cup. “Where’s Dick?”

It’s Damian’s turn to shrug as he directs his thumb behind him and explains, “He and your father needed to discuss some important matters most likely pertaining to us.”

“He needs to talk a lot.” Jon notices looking at the now-closed bedroom door behind them while absentmindedly kicking his legs back and forth in his seat. “What did he talk to you about?”

“The usual. He’s sorely disappointed I’m not the child he’s expecting me to be and then some nonsense about my mother. It’s all useless drivel really.” 

“Hm.” The smaller boy takes a long sip from his novelty cup before commenting. “That’s kinda dumb. What is he expecting of you?”

“Honestly I think he’s frustrated that I’m not like you,” Damian admits slamming down his cup like it was a bottle of whiskey. “I don’t know what it is about the world and expecting everyone under a specific age range to be naive and daft, but it’s exhausting.”

“Am I like that?” Jon asks seeing as that description is what Damian would constantly call him. 

The older boy hums thoughtfully and nods his head. “Absolutely, but you’ve proven your presence more tolerable than most, and schooling has only solidified this fact.”

The two sit in silence for a few more seconds as Damian finishes his drink while Jon impatiently waits. He can hear the hushed whispers of his father and Dick in the next room but Jon was taught better than to eavesdrop on other people’s conversations when it’s clear it’s supposed to be private. Out of the corner of his eye, he sees his mother glancing up from her screen every once in a while to make sure the two boys were doing fine. It’s obvious that she’s concerned about something but Jon’s not entirely sure what it is. He gets up out of his seat and pushes in his chair as he points to the blue door next to the bathroom. 

“Hey Dami, check out my new room!”

Damian doesn’t say anything as he complies with the request, leaving his half-finished drink on the table, and steps out of his chair causing Jon to push it in for him. Lois sees that the two are leaving her range of sight and calls out, “Leave your door open so I can keep an eye on you both, Jon!”

“Okay, I will!” Jon shouts back as he swings open the entrance to his abode only for it to make an extremely loud crashing sound as it hits his nightstand. “Oops.”

“Why does the door swing inwards when it’s clear that there’s barely enough space?” The older boy complains as the younger leaps onto his bed to make room for Damian to move in the tiny area. “Jonathan, this place is completely abysmal. It makes your previous garishly decorated room look like a palace in comparison.”

The child attempts to be offended by that statement, but can’t bring himself to be as he completely agrees even though he doesn’t say it aloud. Instead, he just hums as he watches Damian riffle through his corner desk for some paper and pencil. After procuring said items he glances at the barren walls as he moves to sit next to Jon on the bedding. “I would think that you’d be the kind of person to have decorated your bedroom by now. What happened to all of that Superman paraphilia that used to litter your walls?”

“I think they’re in a storage unit somewhere in the city. There wasn’t enough room for everything in the new place.” He explains as he gets situated under his covers. 

“Why are you getting under your blanket; you’re not going to sleep are you?” 

“No, but I just kinda felt like it,” Jon says adjusting his pillow against the headboard and sits up with the blue and red comforter over his small body. “Anyways, this is my room! Not really much of a tour when you can see everything but at least it’s easy to find things! Now I never lose any of my stuff.”

“Charming.” Damian states writing something down in one of Jonathan’s composition notebooks that he’s supposed to be used for social studies but left blank. “Now that we got our physical training out of the way-”

“You just told me not to flinch for an hour as you attacked me then you started training by yourself while I watched. I don’t think I learned anything.” Jonathan interrupts, remembering the day’s previous events. 

“That was your physical training.” He proceeds to prove his point by leaning forward and hurriedly flicking the pale boy between the eyes; to which he does not react at all other than an annoyed expression. “See, we finally got rid of that reflex of yours. No reason to act like you’re going to be in pain when you can feel none.”

“I guess.” Jon remarks as he rubs his finger on his head. “Is it weird that I can’t remember what pain feels like? I mean I’ve been hurt but nothing serious and I can’t really remember.”

Damian brushes off at what should be a very concerning statement and continues writing in the book as he says, “Jonathan, that’s fine. If anything it’s great that you don’t because that human fear will only hold you back.”

“But I am human.”

“We both know that’s not true and that makes you all the better for it.” He finishes writing in the book and shoves it at Jon’s chest for him to read. “This is your homework. I expect you to memorize everything secretly then get rid of the paper before we meet again, and don’t just merely throw it away in the trash where anyone can find it.”

“What am I supposed to do; eat it?” Jon teases as he lifts the book to read, expecting Damian to have written in some foreign language again, only to be pleasantly surprised that everything is entirely legible to him. Even though it’s legible that doesn’t mean he knows what he’s reading as it appears to be a key for codes like the ones he sees on the back of cereal boxes. “So… I’m glad you wrote something I can read but I don’t know what this is.”

Green eyes roll and lean forward with a tired expression to quietly explain the words to Jon. “It’s going to be the language we use in the field so that no one will know our plans. If you want to add anything to it, feel free to do it now so that I’ll know.”

“Oh.” The boy skims the codes in the book knowing that he’s not going to be able to memorize them all in the short time they most likely have together. 

**_Codes:_ **

_Purple = Defend_

_Blue = Attack_

_Green= No Danger/Go_

_Yellow = Suspicious Behavior/Proceed With Caution_

_Orange = Potential Danger/Prepare for Attack_

_Red = Immediate Danger/Stop_

“Is this it? It seems a bit short for a secret code.” Jon says taking the pencil from the other boy to add more to the list. “And why colors?”

“Honestly I think trying to do anything else would be too complicated for your feeble mind. You’ve never done anything like this before and working with a system that is easy to understand for even the most simple of people is the best starting point.” Damian explains as he scoots back to the edge of the bed away to get a better look at the outside living space. 

Jonathan tapped the eraser of the pencil against his chin thinking about what he can add now that he knows it’s not going to be something weird. There is definitely a lot missing but if he adds too much then that just adds more work for him. “How about we add something for running away or calling for help? Like, if we’re in real danger we should call the police or our dads!”

The older boy sighs pretentiously, clearly irritated by the suggestion, but glares at the boy under the sheets. “We’re only going to go on a test run of your usable abilities. I doubt that we’re going to run into any actual threats especially after all the research and preparations I have been doing. If you want to put a cry for help down then by all means go ahead but we will not need it.”

“Okay!” Jon chirps, scribbling down another code.

_Black = Call for Help_

“And what about something when we have to retreat-”

“Are all your suggestions about giving up on a mission?” Damian mocks as he watches the two men leave the bedroom and talk to the woman in the kitchen. “If you’re really worried about that we can just use red for it. You’re supposed to be my shield Jonathan and I can’t have a shield that runs away at the first sign of danger.”

He knows that the older boy didn’t really mean anything by it because Jon was already on board with the idea, but there was a pang in the more adolescent boy’s chest at the thought Damian wouldn’t need him. Jonathan was already well aware that Damian could have done all of this hero stuff without him. Jonathan knows that he doesn’t have much to offer besides his invincibility. Even then it wouldn’t be much use if he couldn’t be fast or strong enough to get between his last remaining friend and an attack.

Damian has been so kind to him during this difficult time in his life and in the young boy’s eyes he hasn’t had anything to offer back. With that in mind he writes in the last code he thinks they’ll need to use.

_Pink = Leave Me Behind_

“What about this?”

The other glances at it with a curious expression and asks, “What is this?”

“It’s what it says. If you get into danger you’re human and humans get hurt. Humans can feel pain. You said that I’m not human. I haven’t been really hurt for a long time. So if something is about to hurt us I want you to leave me behind so that I can take all the pain.” Jon describes turning the notebook around towards himself. “I told you the very first day we met that I would be your shield and I don’t go back on my word; That would just be quitter’s talk.” 

“Hm.” Damian hums satisfied by that explanation and turns back to watch the adults talk. “You’re learning.”

“Thanks?” He replies not knowing if that was the kind of response one is suppose to respond to or not. 

The older child continues spying on the adults conversing with each other while Jon watches Damian do it in silence wondering if this is going to be how they’re going to be spending the rest of their time together. That would just be extremely boring so he decides to at least talk if they’re not going to play; it’s not like they can do much else seeing as there is nothing else to do in his new room.

“Soooooooo… Earlier I was talking to your brother-”

“Not my brother. I don’t even like him.”

“And he asked me about what kind of hero I wanted to be. I don’t really know the answer cause I thought I did but it’s a lot harder to think about than I thought it was. I thought I wanted to be like my dad but I don’t know what that means.” Jon says leaning his head back onto the bed frame and looking up at the ceiling. “What kind of hero do you want to be?”

Jon’s friend actually contemplates this question seriously, turning away from his spying to bestow his full attention to him. “It’s funny you say that.” He states in an almost amused tone moving to sit between the adjacent wall and Jonathan’s body. Now that they were next to each other Damian is able to speak in a more hushed tone than he was already speaking in previously. “It’s a topic I actually wished to discuss with you at a later time in our partnership, but you’ve always had a habit of rushing ahead of me in my plans. To answer your questions, I personally have not an investment in being a superhero in the way you might presume. I don’t want to do it for justice or anything if the like; all I want is to be equal to my father so he can see my potential and train me. When that objective is met my mother will come back for me, but to have that happen I must finish my training. The only way to do that is to prove myself worthy of being trained.”

“I wasn’t expecting any of that from you Dami,” Jon admits with a playful grin. “I definitely don’t expect you to believe in peace and justice with the way you’re always threatening people.”

“Are you mocking me?” Damian retorts clearly not even the least bit offended. 

“Me? Nooooo.” Jon ripostes teasingly before becoming a bit more earnest. “But I wasn’t expecting you to do this for your mom. I remember seeing her once, when we first met in the cave, she’s really pretty.”

The young Wayne nods in agreement. “She’s the most beautiful woman in the world.”

“Do you want to be like your mom?”

Damian breathes wistfully as he tucks his knees to his chest and lays his chin upon them. “I would be lucky to even be half the person she is. There is not a more skilled, elegant, and intelligent human on the planet. All my life I wished to emulate her, but even when I succeed her in one aspect, I discover ten more I fail. The day we met I defeated her in single combat for the first time only to be whisked away to be set on another quest. I’ve seen how Father is swayed by her even if it’s for a moment. I wish that gaining the favors of others was that easy for me as it comes naturally to her.”

“I think if you’d stop glaring at people they’ll like you better.”

“Jon, this is my face and I’m not changing it to please some peasants.” 

“That’s a lie. I’ve seen you smile before.”

“And according to my father’s wards it’s still a threatening expression.”

“Maybe they just don’t see you the way I do,” Jon says remembering the times he’s seen a genuine smile and laugh on the boy’s face.

Damian rolls his eyes as he says, “You only see what I want you to see.” 

The younger boy shrugs and replies, “Maybe, but that just means you want me to see you smile.”

He doesn’t even bother to come up with a response and continues to get back to the main conversation at hand. “Back on topic, my goal for heroism is to be efficient. That’s all I need to show Father my potential. Since you don’t have an ideal in mind why don’t I give you one? Later if it doesn’t suit you, you may change it freely.”

“Sure, it’s not like I’m going to come up with one in the next ten seconds.” Jon agrees willing to listen. 

“Good. You won’t even half to change anything as all you need to do is protect me. That should be your only purpose out there.”

“What about protecting people?”

“That’s going to be the job but if that was going to be the main reason you’d be out there then you would have been doing it this entire time.” Damian sneers turning his emerald orbs at the boy. “Let’s face it, everyone is selfish and if you’d like to prove to me otherwise then use your action out there rather than your words in here.”

Meanwhile, unbeknown to the duo in Jonathan’s room the trio of grown-ups were conversing about them to each other in hushed voices; Clark Kent being the most vocal. “I know those two are going to try something while Bruce and I are away but I don’t know how bad it’s going to be.” The Kryptonian amidst holding his chin and glancing at the boys in the other room.

The eldest Wayne child agrees, nodding his head profusely. “I know Damian had a difficult past, but I think we tried adjusting him to normal life too quickly. I… He’s just a kid but nothing I do will convince him otherwise.”

“Dick, you and Bruce are both trying your best,” Lois reassures, laying a gentle hand on the young male’s shoulder. “You even moved back into the manor temporarily to help watch over him which says a lot about your dedication. And Clark, I know Damian isn’t… normal but Jon needs him now more than ever. Before Jon was Damian’s only friend but now it’s both ways. Those two only have each other right now. While they’ve only known each other for a short amount of time childhood friendships are fast-paced. If I have to be completely honest with myself, I don’t like him.”

“Lois!” Clark softly gasps in shock at the admission. 

The brunette sighs and takes her hand off their guest’s shoulder as she places it back on the counter. “Don’t act so shocked Smallville, you’ve seen the way he talks down to our son. The language, the tone, the demeaning words, all of it isn’t right but Jon is happy with him even though he knows better. I don’t know why but even though he’s young I trust him enough to make decisions like how you trust him to not use your super-hearing to eavesdrop on him 24/7. I know Damian is a kid who has lived a horrible life, but all I can hope is that Jon is a good influence on him, but that’s not a given.”

“It’s alright.” Dick breaths with a strained smile. “Damian… Damian was raised by the League of Assassins under Talia of all people. From what I can gather he’s spent his entire life with people bowing down to him like he’s the greatest thing since sliced bread. We- My family- we haven’t been the best in teaching him how fulfilling a normal life can be. We tried to prove how he can still be part of the family even with his past without being a vigilante by making him be around Jay, but that backfired. 

“He also takes any attempt Bruce makes to bond as a challenge, he straight-up hates Tim, Cass tries but she’s not a conversationalist, and he only sees Alfred as ‘the help.’ The only time we ever see him act remotely like a child is when he’s with Jon, but I understand how that might not be a good thing. I just don’t know what else to do. He’s… he’s not good for Jon from what I’ve seen recently, but I’m reluctant to separate them.”

Lois nods in agreement and takes a sip from her coffee mug before speaking. “They both need a friend right now but this behavior cannot continue. We all need to have a serious talk with the two of them.”

“I agree, but when should we do that? Bruce and I are leaving tomorrow night for our mission and won’t be back until next Sunday. It’s not that I don’t trust either of you to talk to them, but I feel like as their fathers we should be there for that conversation. Especially since it looks like they want to be Superheroes together.”

Dick thinks for a minute and then answers, “I think B will be free the day you get back so another week can’t hurt. I’ll make sure to keep an eye on Damian so he won’t try anything crazy with Jon while you two are away.”

“And Jon is a good boy. He never breaks the rules with us so as long as Damian is in check I believe nothing bad will happen while you’re away. We just have to be extra careful.” Lois adds in looking at the two on the bed talking. “Besides, you shouldn’t have to worry about anything. You’ve been on trips before and Jon’s been just fine.”

“Yeah but that was before he knew I was Superman.”

Dick pats the older man on the back reassuringly. “Relax Uncle Clark, Lois can handle herself and I’m a professional big brother. We’ll do our best to make sure everything is okay.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not much to say for this chapter as anything I might say would be a spoiler cause this entire chapter was just me foreshadowing. I'll answer questions if things are unclear, but otherwise next week will be the real beginning of the next arch. Is arch the right word for what I'm looking for? IDK but that's what I'm calling it.
> 
> Next Week: The boys go on patrol!


	13. You Are Now Entering Blüdhaven

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The boys have an evening out on the town looking for crime to stop when they get more than they bargained for.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sup y'all! I'm not a few hours late again and back with a new chapter! I would like to thank everyone for reading and have been thoroughly enjoying the comments! We are over 130k words in and holy crap that is something I thought I'd never be able to write but I guess this situation we're all currently in during 2020 has just given me a lot of free time! I hope y'all enjoy!

Jonathan Samuel Kent is surprisingly bad at making friends. All his life, or at least the time he can actually remember, he’s just had, friends. It’s one of the benefits of living in one place all of your life that rarely gets any newcomers; everyone already knows each other. That means no one has to go through awkward introductions and having to find out anything because people just know it already. Everything was simple and kids born in Hamilton just already have a set of friends. Or maybe things were created to be that way for Jon, he doesn’t know.

In Metropolis things are a bit more complicated. Jon would skip up to a group of kids during recess and try to play with them and they would recoil from him like he was the devil. He knows that he didn’t have the best first two weeks of school so far, but he didn’t think that he messed it up with kids that he never even talked to. He thought that if he just introduced himself to new people and was polite that maybe he could make some new friends. Jon even made sure they weren’t anyone from his class, meaning that they didn’t see him cry! Maybe everyone already heard of the cafeteria incident on his first day and thinks he’s gross.

Disheartened at being quietly rejected by another group of peers the seven-year-old slouches his entire body as he trudges depressingly to find another group to try integrating himself into. He looks over his shoulder to his older friend following him silently with slightly watery eyes and asks, “Do you think it’s the glasses Dami?”

“What about your glasses?” The boy asks back without removing his eyes from his sketchbook.

“You know, do you think my glasses are why people don’t like me? I know on TV kids think glasses are ugly but I didn’t know the kids around here actually thought that!” He begins to remove his lenses only to be stopped by Damian’s darker hand on his wrist.

“Don’t.” He says coldly moving to affix the lenses back to his face with an annoyed grunt. “Don’t let them see you without them. Besides, I highly doubt that your spectacles are hindering your ability to be likable.” 

Jon grunts and pushes the hand away from his face asking, “Then what am I doing wrong? Dad says to make more friends I have to be nice and true to myself but I can’t even get past the nice part!”

Rolling his emerald eyes, Damian finally puts away his pencils and sketchbook under his arm and gives the upset child his full attention. “I cannot even comprehend the purpose of this. You already have me and you want to muddy the waters with some uneducated hooligans that won’t offer anything useful to our dynamic.”

“Uh… cause having lots of friends is a good thing.” 

“I doubt it, but if you’re so insistent on continuing your crusade for useless idiots then be my guest. I find it unlikely that you’ll be able to find anyone from here willing to indulge you as I do.” Damian states as he solidifies himself in his current spot on the wood chips. “I’ll be right here watching flounder and console you when you ultimately fail.” 

“Fine!” 

Jon pouts as he stomps over towards the field past the monkey bars to the group of boys of varying grades playing flag football. He puts on a cheerful expression as he gets closer to the group and stops himself at the edge of the makeshift boundary set by mini plastic saucer cones. Eventually, someone in the crowd notices him and signals for the other boys to halt their activities to address Jon watching them. Before anyone can stop him a younger boy, most likely a fellow second-grader, runs up to him with the green flagged belt flowing behind him.

“Hi! I’m Ethan!” The boy greets with a toothy smile. “Whatcha’ doin?”

“Hi, I’m Jonathan! I- Um, I was wondering if you’d let me play with you guys.” Jon answers hopefully as he sees that the other is being kind to him rather than repulsed. 

The boy opens his mouth to answer when an older boy, a third or fourth grader, with frameless glasses, pulls the nice boy back and replies, “No. We’re full right now, we don’t need more players.”

“O-oh… I-” The seven-year-old swallows the lump that suddenly formed in his throat and tries to continue conversing. “Can I play with y’all if there’s an opening?”

Jon sees one of the boys flinch in the back at the words and looks directly at him like he’s about to attack them. The big kid in the glasses narrows his eyes and lets out a stern, “There won’t be” and walks away with the confused young kid in tow. 

Letting out a depressing sigh Jon walks back to Damian directly behind him off the grass where he sighs again, only to be patted on the head like he’s a dog. “Once again, we’ve learned that I’m right.”

“I think they think I’m going to hurt them. One boy flinched at me! FLINCHED! Do I look like a violent person?” Jon questions gesturing to himself frantically. “The only person I’ve ever hit was you and that doesn’t count!”

“Good to know I don’t count.” The older boy teases as he grabs the upper arm of Jonathan’s uniform jacket and leads him to the peacefully barren bleachers of the elementary baseball field. 

Jonathan rolls his eyes at his words and groans irritated. “Dami, I didn’t mean it like that.”

“I know.” He affirms walking up the short metal steps. “It’s just so easy to get you riled up over the littlest of issues.”

“Whatever.” Jon humphs as he plops himself down onto his seat on the metal bench that might as well have a Jonathan shaped impression in it for how often he ends up sitting next to Damian here. 

“Why do you keep trying when you know your efforts are futile?” Damian inquires, reopening his sketchbook to continue drawing in it.

“I probably should give up. No one likes me here!” Jonathan bemoans leaning his head on the taller boy’s shoulder drained from his endeavors. “I’ll try again on Monday.”

“Usually when people give up they strive to not repeat their actions no matter the day of the week.” 

“That’s quitter’s talk. Someone here wants to be my friend and I just need to find them!”

“It still confuses me how stubborn you can be sometimes. What is so good about having normal friends when I’m right here?”

The younger boy exhales through his nose harshly and explains, “Having friends, in general, is important. I mean, you’re cool and all, but I’m just used to groups. Like- having a bunch of people to count on and be around is nice and I like being around different kinds of people. Friends make me feel better! Don’t you ever feel like that?”

“No.”

“Urgh, I hate you so much sometimes! You’re not even paying attention!” Jonathan groans roughly jolting the other with his arms. 

“I’m happy to hear it and I’ll have you know that I’ve been indulging your futile efforts this entire week.” Damian retorts with no emotion in his voice as he kneads an eraser from his blue blazer pocket into a fine tip to add detail to his current masterpiece. “I admit that I am not an expert in your customs of relationships between peers, but the fact that you’re so desperate to fill that hole Hamilton county left behind in your heart might not be a good thing to do so quickly.”

“That’s not what I’m doing!... Is it?”

“Who knows, but I think it’s best that you put off trying to add more problems to your life before you finish recovering from your past trauma.” He finishes as he picks up a large black graphite stick to color in his work. 

“How long do you think that will take?”

“I’m no psychologist but it could be months, maybe years. No need to rush things when no one is going anywhere.” He replies focusing his attention on the drawing for a few more moments to allow Jonathan to process the information before switching topics entirely. “Have you finally finished the assignment I’ve given you?”

The boy shrugs and picks himself off the older boy’s shoulder to pull out the now crumpled notebook sheet from his pocket with a nod. “Yeah, I got it. Geez, you’re such a Butt when it comes to this stuff.”

Damian nods in approval. “Excellent, I’m extremely pleased that you’ve beaten my expectations of you. I was sure that it would have taken you longer to retain.”

“Oh my gosh, I hate you.”

“Keep telling yourself that and maybe one day it’ll come true.” He sarcastically replies. “Now get rid of it.” Without hesitation, Jonathan folds the paper and immediately shoves it into his mouth then swallows it as if it was second nature. 

The assassin is shocked by the action to the point he almost drops his stationary and blinks wildly at the other boy. “Do you just consume anything that comes into contact with you? Why did you eat it? Have you learned nothing about the dangers of consuming random things? Are you a goat?”

“Huh?” Jon blurts out as he blinks back with the same bewildered expression. “I mean, it’s just paper. Besides, you’re the one who said I couldn’t throw it in the trash where anyone could find it!”

“That doesn’t mean eat it! The connotation was that you’d tear it to sheds, flush it down a toilet, or burn it!”

“Where would I even get fire?! I don’t know how fire works and I don’t want to accidentally burn myself!”

“Jonathan,” Damian says, exasperated by said boy’s behavior. “You can’t burn yourself. You’re invincible; you can’t get hurt.”

Jon blinks approximately three times before he lets out a surprised and drawn out, “Oh… OOOoooooooohhhh. That makes a lot of sense.”

“You… What am I going to do with you?” The older boy laments holding his hands in his face, staining it with the dark grey of the graphite. 

The smaller boy shrugs indifferently and resumes his previous dismal position of leaning on the other boy’s shoulder for support. “We’re going to be superheroes. Duh.”

Damian drags his callous palms down the front of his face, ignoring the stains on his medium dark-toned skin, and goes back to sketching. “Right, right. I found the perfect spot to do our trial run of a patrol and test what specific aspects need to be worked on to ensure better results in the future.”

“Gotham? Cause I don’t think mom will allow me out in Metropolis for this.” Jon expresses, already imagining his mother yelling at him. 

In a hushed tone, Damian leans his mouth closer to Jonathan’s ear and explains his plan, making sure no one could hear them. “No, not Metropolis nor Gotham City. Both places will be littered with vigilantes and heroes due to their main protector being off-world. Grayson, Drake, Gorden, and Cain will have their hands busy Saturday as they fill in for Father. Meanwhile, Metropolis will be patrolled by both Superwoman and Supergirl. While I could probably move around unnoticed, you are a literal bright blue and red mass that has no stealth whatsoever. If we go there then we’ll be caught immediately. No, we have to be smart about this. Our fortress is located in Civic city which is just a two-hour drive from Blüdhaven, which will be completely empty due to the lack of Nightwing.”

“Wait, how did you know the Fortress of Attitude was in Civic city? I had no idea!” Jon whispers back with an extremely confused expression upon his face.

“The forestry makes it extremely obvious that we’re in the northeast region of the United States and last Saturday I confirmed it using the stars in the sky.” He details lulling his head back annoyed about having to describe such mundane details. 

“Okay, but there are a few problems with that plan.” The half-Kryptonian calls out sitting up straighter. “I don’t think Mom will let me go to Blüdhaven.”

“That’s why we’re not going to tell her.” Damian groans and rolls his eyes at his naive partner. “-Tt- How daft can you be?”

Jon stiffens his spine completely at those words and begins shaking the older boy back and forth frantically struggling to keep his quiet volume. “Wait… WE’RE SNEAKING OUT!? B-But that’s bad! Really bad Dami!”

“What did you think we were going to do? Ask nicely- wait. That was your plan, so it’s a good thing I’m here to talk some sense into you.”

“But we could get in trouble!”

“Not if we do it right Jonathan. Our parents have allotted a five-hour window in which we are able to freely act, in the guise of a playdate. Tomorrow it will be under the supervision of Alfred and Todd of all people. It’s clear they already suspected something from us due to the fact there will be two people there, so I have taken the liberty of devising a distraction.” Damian elaborates flipping through the past pages of his sketchbook to reveal a picture of a simplified map he drew. “I have also taken care of our transportation situation. The only thing you have to do is to come to the fortress at the allotted time in costume. We travel two hours into Blüdhaven, immediately stop some minor crimes under an hour, and travel back before anyone notices.”

“You sound so confident,” Jon says, feeling extremely unsettled about the predicament he’s being put in. “What if we don’t find any crime?” He asks as a means to not go through with the plan.

Seeing the boy’s hesitance, Damian attempts to reassure him that everything will go accordingly. “Blüdhaven is a cesspool of depravity. I chose it specifically because it’s riddled with crime, and the corrupt police force wouldn’t bat an eye at a couple of vigilantes taking out the trash. We wouldn’t even have to go that deep into the city to find some crime to stop.” He slams close the book and looks Jon in the eye. Even though he doesn’t look cross the younger boy can definitely feel the irritation radiating off of him. “Unless you want to bail out after all the work I put into you. I’m fine with going on my own so you don’t have to worry that thick head of yours, and stay home to be coddled by your mother.”

He begins to stand up and is swiftly yanked back down by two tiny pale hands. “No! I-I mean, you shouldn’t go by yourself. I didn’t say I wouldn’t go with you.”

“Good,” Damian says but pulls himself up anyways. “Now if you could let go of me so that we may return to class, that would be great.”

“Huh?” Jon blurts out confused by the request. 

The older boy sighs and elaborates. “The bell has been rung; recess is over and we must return to class. Why else would I stand in the middle of our conversation?”

The younger child takes his arms off his friend, embarrassed by his own actions. “O-oh. Sorry, I didn’t hear it go off.” He says as he looks to the playground to see the students begin to line up and goes to follow them inside.

The next day Jonathan prepares his luggage, which is just a Superman plushie with a pouch inside, and heads to the teleporter where his cousin Kara is waiting for him in full uniform. “Welp, I guess it’s time for your playdate.” She asks checking over Jon carefully, her eyes lingering on his uniform and plush. “Is there anything you want to tell me?”

“I-I…” He tenses up where he’s standing, doing his darndest to calm down his heartbeat; afraid that his cousin will find out his and Dami’s plans. “I…”

Without waiting for him to finish his sentence she slowly takes the plushie and unzips it to find several sugary cereal bars. “You know that you’re not allowed to have too much sugar.”

Jon almost outworld relaxes as he stares at the packaged treats in the young blonde’s hand. “It’s Saturday?” He defends as she hands everything back to him. 

“Alright then, just don’t eat them all in one go.” Supergirl reminds him as she watches her baby cousin step onto the teleporter mat. She lays her hand on the large blue button but doesn’t apply any force as her azure eyes bore into him. “Oh, and Jon.”

“Yeah, Kara?” He replies looking up at her innocently. 

“You know that your parents trust you to do the right thing, right?”

His heart practically leaps into his throat at the words and shamefully adverts his own eyes away from her face. “I know.”

“Are you sure that you don’t have anything else to tell me? You can trust me, and if you don’t want to tell me that’s fine. Just know that I won’t think any less of you.” She tells him with a lovely smile watching him intently. 

The young boy opens his mouth to say something but nothing comes out as the words get stuck in his chest. He doesn’t want to disappoint anyone but if he doesn’t do it his only friend will be mad at him. If they do it right then his family won’t be mad cause they wouldn’t know, right? “No, I don’t.” He announces handing her back the bag of sugary snacks. “I don’t think I’ll be needing these anymore.” He doesn’t need more guilt on his conscious.

But it’s clear by the look on Supergirl's face that she believes Jon means something else and her grin grows wider. She takes the plushie from him and gives him an affectionate head rub before she proceeds to press the button with relief. “Alright then, have fun! Remember to be home before 9 o’clock! Your mom should be home by then and will be worried if you stay out late playing.”

“I will! Bye Kara, see you later!” He says as the light illuminates his vision. 

Moments later he expects to see the sight of the bedroom in their fortress where their caretakers will be waiting for him only to find the place empty. He cautiously steps off the steel pad when it lights up again startling him silly as he leaps onto the ground. Unsurprisingly, Damian in full Robin attire stands there looking slightly more haggard than he usually does and curiously stares at the younger boy on the floor. Shakily Jon gets up and brushes imaginary dust off of his suit as he lets out a shaky breath.

“Jonathan, I see that your nerves are going haywire.”

“S-sorry.” He apologies trying to stop the shivering he’s suddenly developed over the last few seconds. “Where is everyone else?”

“Still in Gotham.” Damian proclaims as he readjusts his green leather gloves while walking to the exit. “You don’t have to worry about them, they’re fine and will only be irate with me by the time we get back. You’ll still be a good little boy in their eyes when everything is said and done for.”

Jon follows him outside down the ladder to the clearing where a navy colored motorcycle sized for children sits underneath the treehouse leaning on the tree. Excitedly the boy runs up to the vehicle and runs his hands across the large gold R embroidered on the side of it. “Holy cow Dami this looks freaking amazing! Where did you get this?!”

Putting on a motorcycle helmet and folding his cape up into the seat compartment of the motorcycle before seating himself on it. “It used to be Grayson’s when he first became Robin and was wasting away in the Batcave before I decided to revive it.”

“Can you even drive this thing?” Jon asks, sitting directly behind him and becoming confused about what to do with his hands. Does he put them in his lap, hold on to Damian’s shoulders, or are there handles he can’t see yet? Should his feet just dangle on the side or is there a place for them?

Noticing the confused disposition of his friend Damian sighs as he pivots the top of his body around to physically adjust the younger boy in the correct position, feet on the footrests and arms around his waist. “I’ve been driving since I was six, I know what I’m doing.”

“What about my helmet?”

“Jonathan, you’re an invincible Kryptonian. You don’t need any kind of protection.” He says as he revs up the engine. “But you don’t have super strength so you better hold on tight.” 

“Should we bring snacks?” 

“A bit late for that, don’t you think?”

"..."

“I already packed water but if you want a snack then you have ten seconds to run back inside and grab it.” He tells Jon as he turns off the vehicle.

Damian didn’t even finish his sentence when Jon hopped off the passenger seat and hurriedly climbed back up the ladder to the minifridge to grab some applesauce packets and two juice boxes. After gathering the snacks he sprints back down and tosses the haul into the passenger seat compartment. Then he sits back down behind an extremely annoyed Damian only to notice a newly scar developed scar on the back of his neck. “What happened to your neck?” Jon asks as he resituates himself properly, tucking his cape underneath him and wrapping his arms around the red leather of Damian’s waist. 

“Hm?” The older boy grunts as he starts up the engine again. “Oh, Father and Grayson put a tracker on me so I had to get rid of it.”

“Did it hurt?”

“Nothing compared to what I’m used to.” He answers as they begin moving much to Jonathan’s delight. 

Sure Jon is terrified of getting in trouble and disappointing his family, but he’s never on a motorcycle before which almost overshadows it all with pure joy. The ride is slightly bumpy due to the lack of road but once they get to the asphalt everything was smooth sailing from there. There was still lots of sun outside which worried Jon because they could easily be seen but so far it appears that Damian knew which roads to take that were empty. 

Jon trusts the other to know what he’s doing so they continue their thrilling ride to Blüdhaven uninterrupted, giving the younger plenty of time to enjoy the ride. “Weeeeeeeeeeeeeee~!” He squeals as they make a sharp turn under a railroad bridge. “Dami! Dami, do it again!”

Through the side-mirror, Jonathan can also see Damian having a good time on the open road if his feral smile is anything to go by. “There will be plenty of time for more theatrics but remember to use code names and hold on tight!” He shouts back over the roar of the engine as the front wheel is lifted off of the ground and the two are inclined horizontally as they speed up. 

Both boys scream in excitement from the wheelie and begin to drive faster and more recklessly as they are definitely well above the speed limit. The path Damian took was one of complete chaos as sometimes they’re on the road while other times they’ll take abandoned tunnel paths. During one of these tunnels detours, the older boy looks at Jon via the mirror, and playfully asks, “Wanna see something cool?”

“YES!” Jon shouts pressing his body closer to the boy’s back in preparation.

“Hook your feet under the footrest for a moment!” He commands as the zip inside the rounded underpass. 

He follows his direction when the bike suddenly rides up onto the wall and the two find themselves sideways causing Jon to scream in both terror and exhilaration. Meanwhile, Damian begins hysterically laughing, throwing his head back, as he sees Jon’s reaction. Quickly he moves even faster, something the younger boy didn’t know was possible and drives up the ceiling where they’re completely upside down.

“AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHH! Dami- Robin oh my gosh we’re gonna die! I’m gonna fall!”

Thankfully they don’t stay there for long as he drifts back onto the side of the cylindrical wall and back onto the ground with Damian still laughing. “Hahahahahahahaha! I’ve missed this!”

“This was normal for you!?” Jon asks as they show down to a more reasonable fast pace.

“This was my life! The feeling of the wind through my hair, the raw adrenaline through my veins, and even the roaring of this old machine; it almost feels like flying through the skies on my precious Goliath!” He exclaims happily without a care. “!أعجبني حقا”

Jon almost forgot Damian has a dragon/bat or whatever it was. At least Damian is having fun and after that terrifying display, he doubts that they’ll do something like that again. It’s actually a bit disappointing cause even though he’s scared Jon is actually enjoying himself.

He should be careful of what he wishes for.

“IS THAT A RAMP!?” Jon hollers an hour later when he was beginning to believe that previous stunt was going to be their last.

“It’s called a drawbridge!” Damian corrects as he revs the engine, making his intent to jump it all the more clear. “If this is too overwhelming for you, just say the word Superboy!”

Blue eyes gawk at the bridge suddenly realizing that cartoons really underestimate the size of these things in real life. As the road ascends into the air the bike slows down momentarily waiting for Jonathan’s answer. He glances at his friend who he’s never seen so animated and seeing as they freaking drove upside down, what’s the harm in driving without a ground?

Plus, Jon never was a quitter.

“FLOOR IT DAMI!” Jon demands as he hugs the older boy’s waist as tight as he can.

“Names!” He scolds in return but races up the moving platform before darting off the steep incline and into the open air.

Jonathan has been in the sky before. He’s flown in his father’s safe and secure arms that always promised to never drop him. Flying with Superman always came with a guarantee of security and entertainment as they look down at the small world beneath them. Flying with Damian was nothing like that at all.

The ocean roars beneath them as a boat crosses underneath them and up above was the setting sun casting magnificently warm pink, blue, red, and orange hues around them as the vast silhouette of Blüdhaven is shadowed in the distance. There was a chance that any second now the two could plummet down into the black waters or crash into the concrete edge of the other side. Jon would be lying if he said that wasn’t on his mind, but it would also be a lied if he said he cared. Flying with Damian was exhilarating and dangerous in a way Jon feels that he wants to feel for the rest of his life.

His life always had a bit more action when Damian was involved. He’s been feeling so down lately that even though he doesn’t bring up his old life in Hamilton it’s always on his mind. Yet at this moment soaring through the sky on a small motorcycle with a boy who is clearly having the time of his life nothing else mattered. He was here to enjoy the ride no matter the consequences. 

The motorcycle bounces as it’s front wheel touches the road and begins to swivel in random directions before Damian is able to get control back. He steady’s the bike and drives straight towards the city in the distance. It’s odd that this bridge is barren and clearly hasn’t been maintained for a while if the weeds growing in the cracks and the dangling sun-bleached sign reading a faded, “Welcome to Blüdhaven!” was anything to go by. 

The rest of their journey is a paranoid and reserved experience as Damian silently parks the bike underneath the shadowy bridge that connects the city to the mainland. Jon hops off and stumbles awkwardly in a wobbly line due to his newly sore thighs caused by being on a motorcycle for the first time while the older boy gets off with no trouble. He puts his hood back on before tossing a bottle of water and applesauce packet to Jon. He downs his own drink and snack in under thirty seconds while Jon attempts the same thing only to choke as he gets halfway through. 

He eventually finishes his food and drinks only to see his friend put a large black cloak over the bike. The moment the cloth is atop the vehicle it seemingly disappears much to Jon’s astonishment. Damian throws their trash back into the helmet compartment of the motorcycle before walking away towards the city. Still running on the adrenaline of the trip Jon gleefully follows him with a huge grin on his face as he practically skips the entire way. 

Jonathan has never been inside a city before now that he thinks about it. Sure he lives in Metropolis now, but he’s never taken the time to explore his new home. When he when his parents drove through Gotham he didn’t really get a feel for it due to his carsickness and the fact that they didn’t explore it. While Metropolis was sparkly white and Gotham was pitch black, Blüdhaven was a foggy bright grey. Not to say that it was actually surrounded in a veil of fog, but that it was suffocating in a way where people couldn’t see more than what’s directly in front of them. Everything appeared to be made of cold dark metals and stones with the only lights being the blindingly colorful neon signs advertising things Jonathan hasn’t learned of yet. 

“Hey Dami, what are showgirls?” He asks as they sneak through a particularly narrow filthy alleyway.

“Not important and remember to not use real names.” Damian hisses as he grabs Jonathan’s hand to make sure he keeps pace. 

“Oops! Sorry.”

“We are in yellow right now. This is part of your training meaning that you’ll need to learn to keep your eyes and ears open.”

Jon does his best to scan the area they’re in to the best of his ability but the twilight sky around them isn’t making his new job easy. He notices a woman with extremely high heels underneath a newly lit street lamp being surrounded by a group of men. They appear to just be talking which is boring, but before he could direct his attention elsewhere they begin to forcefully pull her towards an open vehicle.

It’s clear that the blonde woman in orange doesn’t want to go with them, meaning that she’s being taken against her will. “Da- Robin! Over there! I can’t believe it, is this an orange or a red?!” He cries as he pulls his friend back to the direction of the obvious crime. Unfortunately, it appears that Robin has his eyes on another developing situation as a family is clearly being violently hassled for money. 

Jon couldn’t believe it. He’s only been in Blüdhaven for a total of fifteen minutes, just barely entering the city, and there were already two crimes happening right before their very eyes. The young boy has never seen one crime being committed let alone two! Who knows how many more crimes will happen within the hour they allotted for themselves?

“Robin, what should we do?!” 

“Blue!” 

Before Jon could stop him Damian is already rushing off to fight the group of men alone while he’s left only trying to figure out anything. He thought they were going to be in this together, but it does seem better so they can save more people. Thinking on his feet Jon rushes up to the man holding the family of three at gunpoint and…

And he has no freaking idea what he should be doing. Does he call out to them? What if he shoots the gun because Jon shouts. Trying his best not to sound threatening, but authoritative he calls out, “S-stop in the name of the law!”

The mugger, and even the young family being threatened, look at him like he was insane. The patriarch of the family, a man with hazel hair, holds a baby girl closer to his chest and asks him, “Kid, what are you doing?”

“I’m… saving you?” He asserts but ends up making it sound like a question. 

Even the burglar looks at Jon as if he was insane and says, “Who the fuck are you supposed to be? Superchild?”

“I’m Superboy!” Jon whines stomping closer.

While the burglar is distracted the mother of the family jumps into action and begins struggling against their distracted assailant shouting, “James, take Mary and run!”

The man in question begins running the other direction with his child in hand as the two tussles one another. The mugger fights back and even though they seem matched in strength it’s clear that the shady thief will easily win due to the sole fact that he’s able to get his trigger finger on the gun. Seeing that his woman is about to get shot in the stomach Jon hurriedly leaps in just in time to get between the two.

Just in time to take the bullet to the head.

In shock, the mugger drops the gun while the woman cradles Jonathan’s messy black mop to check the bullet wound only to find the brass casing tangled up in his hair. Jon calmly picks up the gun and holds it behind his back as he looks at the man with a stern expression; sadly it comes off as rather adorable given his youthful face. He plucks the pullet out of the tangle in his hair with his other hand as the mother steps back in shock.

“That wasn’t very nice!” Jon exclaims pointing at the criminal with the crumpled bullet still in his head. “It was really loud! How come no one told me regular gunshots were that loud? I mean I know shotguns are super loud but still!”

“Holy fuck! How are you alive!?” The man exclaims putting his hands up while the woman does the same for some reason. 

Jon is extremely confused because this isn’t how he saw muggings get stopped on TV but he might as well roll with the punches. “My name is Superboy! I didn’t pick that name just for funsies! Superman is my Dad!” He picks at his ear with his pinky to see if they will stop the ringing going on but it still lingers for a bit. “Ah man, my ears are feeling funny. I hope I don’t have Tetris.”

“Uh… Do you mean Tinnitus?” The woman asks as she subtly slithers away from the two towards where her assumed husband ran off too. 

“I dunno, probably.” He transfers the bullet to his gun hand and grabs the other man’s hand with his newly free one. He looks at the woman and asks, “Are you okay?”

She nods, now farther than he remembers her being, and replies, “Uh, yeah but are _you_ okay?”

Oh, well that’s nice of her to ask. “I am! Thank you. I think you can go now unless that’s not what you’re supposed to do?”

“Nope, no I am going. Thank you very much, I really appreciate it and I will be going on my merry way.” She rushes the words out of her mouth as her feet scurry away from the scene disappearing around the corner.

Jon shrugs and looks back at the man who is sweating bullets, pun intended, as he looks at his rubber-gloved hand around his wrist. “Look, kid, I just steal people’s wallets! I- there are so many more big-time criminals that you should be taking care of! I don’t deserve having my hands crushed with that super-strength crap!” 

Super-strength? Jon thinks for a moment before releasing that no one knows that his only power is invisibility besides Damian and their families. For all this guy knows Jon could throw him straight across the planet. He blinks, trying to figure out his next course of action when he concludes that he should ask Damian what to do. “It’s okay mister! I won’t hurt you unless you try to hurt me again. Follow me!” The seven-year-old walks the terrified thief over to Damian and is surprised to see him sitting atop a pile of bodies while the blonde lady in the heels is frantically talking to someone through her cellphone. 

“Hello, police! There- How the fuck do I report this!? There are eight potential kidnappers but some weird ninja kid dressed as Robin kicked their asses! Do I report the assault or the kidnapping!?”

“Oh, she’s calling the police,” Jon says aloud as he stands next to them. “Can you also report a shooting too?” He asks, holding out the hand with the gun and bullet.

“HOLY SHIT!”

“Superboy, why is the man conscious?” Damian questions glaring at the frightened burglar staring down at the pile of unconscious bodies with limbs bending different directions. 

Jon shrugs and replies, “I dunno. Am I supposed to do that? I think we should have brought handcuffs.”

At the declaration, the older child leaps off the bodies and reaches into his belt for a couple of zip ties. He takes the man out of Jonathan’s grip and forcefully attaches him to the light pole with little effort. At the same time, Jon takes this time to examine Damian’s handiwork. The men are a lot more bruised and bloodied with their arms looking as if someone rolled them through a grain mill and feet facing the wrong direction from the rest of the body. 

“Oooooh, is this what heroes are supposed to do because I don’t remember seeing that on the internet or television.” Jon winces moving away from that bloody mess. 

“You should see the things Batman does to criminals if this gets you upset,” Damian says with a shrug and walks back to his younger compatriots. “I even made sure to hold back so that all of their injuries are healable.”

“I-I guess?” The child squeaks out, still staring at the pile. “This feels extremely not heroic.”

“Your Dad cauterizes people’s appendages with his eyes and punches their faces so hard they crash through concrete walls! You need to get used to this!”

“When you put it that way…” Jon agrees, walking up to the woman again. “Hi!”

The blonde flinches at being addressed by the super-powered child. “H-hi?”

“Are you okay?”

“Um… Yes. Are you?” She asks back as her eyes glance at the older boy behind him.

“Me?” The boy questions tilting his head and gives her a big smile. “I’m okay! I was only shot in the head.”

It’s clear the woman in orange wants to say something but is rendered speechless as the muffled chatter from the police through her phone fills in the awkward silence. Damian scans the area and decides it’s time to move on. “Superboy, we’re on green again! Leave the gun for the police to find.”

“Okay!” He calls out to the boy’s retreating form and looks back to the shocked woman. 

He sets the gun and the crushed bullet next to her on the ground and skips away to his friend. When he turns the corner behind an alleyway he’s suddenly housed up onto the iron catwalk of the building next to him. Damian puts a finger to his lips signaling to stay quiet and points up at the ladder before ascending it without a single sound. Jonathan attempts to do the same but it immediately met with ear piercingly loud squeaks and loud clunks from the rusted metal. 

When Superboy finally makes it to the top Damian is already running ahead of him, leaping the great distance from this rooftop to the next one without any struggle. “Da- I mean- Robin! You’re doing that jerkface thing where you leave me behind!”

The masked boy exhales through his nose and crosses the gap between buildings again as the smaller child gets off his knees and stands upon the concrete roof. He rolls his eyes from behind the whites of his mask and leads Jonathan halfway to the edge of the building on the other side. “I’m going to give you a lesson in jumping great distances so listen up.” He puppets the boy’s body in preparation to begin running. “It’s just running and jumping. Keep your balance in the front and the force in the back.”

“Uuuuuuuuuhhhhhhh-”

“It’s easier to show than to explain as most things are.” He explains getting into the same position he put the other in.

“I feel like that statement is wrong.”

Unfortunately, Damian doesn’t reply to Jon’s concern as he sprints off the building and leaps gracefully on the other side. He turns around with a hand on his hip as he judgmentally waits for Jonathan to follow his lead. The cotton clad boy sighs as he suddenly feels a hundred pounds heavier and his cap is acting like a heavy boat anchor. His only comfort is that he literally cannot get hurt if he crashes and falls as he makes a break for the ledge and leaps off. 

He’s actually enjoying it but it disappears quickly because while he surprisingly makes the distance he completely fails the landing as he topples forward onto his neck and rolls like a tumbleweed straight across the entire width of the building and off the other side. He falls loudly onto the catwalk of the other building with a crash as his body bounces on the metal grate. Jon quickly recovers and looks up to see his only friend condescending simpering at him from above. 

“Wow, color me impressed Superboy; I don’t think I could have done that even if I tried.” He teases holding an arm out below for him to grab onto.

Jon groans in annoyance as he grasps the leather glove and up pulled back up onto the building. “You’re a sucky teacher.”

“You say that but you did make it and then some.” He retorts now that they’re both on the same platform. “Now then, we’re going to test your coordination when it comes fighting together. I’m sure there is a group of hooligans around there to test your base combat abilities under pressure.”

“Hooligans? Robin, you’re ten, not ninety.”

“It’s still an accurate description of what we’re looking for. Now, this should be relatively easy because we have the higher ground, so I can trust that you won’t have any difficulties?”

Jon thinks for a minute before replying, “I have no idea what I’m doing. Like- back there, I think that was the first time I saw actual crime. Like- That man with the gun wasn’t even wearing a ski mask and he seemed more confused than violent. That mom could have gotten shot and the bullet hit my head. I’m pretty sure I scared both of them for life. Also, you broke those guys’ legs. That’s like fourteen legs broken in under a couple of minutes. I feel like we don’t have a plan and I don’t know how I’m supposed to work with that. Do I just get shot while you keep breaking legs? Is this going to be our thing or do we have other plans?”

“...” Damian blinks at him with an expression completely devoid of emotion and runs his hand down his face with a sigh. “Superboy, the objective is just to test our capabilities and limitations. We are doing this so that we can refine our weaknesses so that when we actually debut we’ll have a cohesive system in action for every scenario. To do that we’re collecting data. So no, we are not just going to be breaking limbs and getting shot at. Also, criminals do not all wear ski masks or have obvious indicators that they have ill-intentions. This is why we’re here; to get a feel for what we’ll be up against. Anyone could be a criminal or part of something shady, especially in this city.”

“Oh.”

“Now that we got that cleared up, let’s go.”

“Okay.” The two continue to travel via the rooftops for a couple more minutes when they finally come across another situation in their mists. Jon is the first one to spot it and immediately calls it out. “RED!”

Damian looks around below from their current position and seeing no one in danger he asks, “Red?”

“Over there! In the tree! Between the road and the sidewalk!” The boy points out looking for a path to the street below. “There’s a cat stuck in that tree! Look, I know it might not be high action or whatever you wanted to find bu-” Jonathan doesn’t even finish his sentence when Damian recklessly jumps below from the top of the liquor store roof and directly into the tree; scaring the living daylights out of the poor child. He grips the lip of the concrete ledge as he leans forward to look down with a surprised yelp. “Da- ROBIN!”

He doesn’t see anything for a few seconds and is about to attempt the same thing when Damian plops onto the sidewalk, terrifying a number of bystanders while holding the angriest fluffiest grey cat Jon as ever seen. Knowing that his friend is okay he looks for a ladder instead of jumping down like a maniac. He eventually finds his exit and makes it to the filthy sidewalk to find Damian… uh, cuddling the black feline.

“You’re a majestic beauty, aren’t you. Yes, you are, yes you are.”

Honestly, now that Jon is looking at it up close the cat looks completely demented with terrifying yellow eyes and the grumpiest expression on this side of the planet. As the scarlet caped boy approaches the cat sharply turns it’s head to stare at him violently as it’s fluffy tail swings lazily against Damian’s vest. “Is that thing terrified of me or angry cause I can’t tell?” 

His question is greeted by a smack to the side of the head as the older boy holds the feline away from Jonathan as if he had offended it, but it’s clear that the cat could not care any less if it tried. “How dare you call her an _‘it’_! She is a Shirazi, aka Felis catus, aka Persian longhair! One of the most beautiful felines in the world and you dare compare her to a mere object?”

Rubbing the area he was hit Jon replies, “Geez, sorry. I never knew you were a cat person.”

“Do not apologize to me, apologize to her!” He orders holding up the cat to Jonathan’s face as it leisurely stares into his soul. 

“Uh… sure?” Jon leans forward to apologize to the cat when it suddenly jumps out of Robin’s arms and proceeds to scratch his face furiously. “Aaaaaaaahhhh! Holy cow it’s nuts! Get it off of me! Get it off!”

“Do not insult Cathrine!” Damian shouts as he attempts to pull the enraged Persian off of his partner’s face. 

“Why did you name it?!” Jon cries as the animal does it’s best to embed its claws into his cheeks. 

“Cathrine is the name of one of the greatest rulers of Russia! She should be proud of her new name!”

“Can we put it back in the tree!?” 

“How dare you!” Damian shouts, as he finally gets the fluffy feline back into his arms where it proceeds to remain calm and presumably happy. Jon could tell as it just appeared perpetually irritated. 

The seven-year-old pats his face to check for damage when he’s reminded of the fact that the cat couldn’t really hurt him even if it tried. It’s still shocking to have a feral animal leap out at him and begin striking his face. Jonathan huffs and points accusingly at the cat. “Cathrine just attacked me!”

“She was merely defending herself.” The older boy replies as he moves back into the shadows of the alleyway and disappears. 

The child immediately knows that Damian is somehow back on the rooftop and lets out a giant exasperated sigh as he makes his way back up the metal ladder. He makes a note to scrub his costume the moment he gets home as every inch of this city is filthy when he sees his hero partner sitting on the ledge petting the vile and mean cat. He walks up to the two and glares down at them as Damian ignores him and the cat glares back.

“Robin, why did you take the cat with you?”

“She wanted to come along.”

“Please tell me you’re not keeping it- I mean, her.” He begs as he feels Cathrine preparing to attack him again. “I thought that we were only going to be fighting people, not cats.”

“I don’t see why you’re so upset Superboy, you’re the one that pointed her out to me.”

“And I’m definitely regretting it.”

Damian laments as he lets the fluffy cat off of his lap and she immediately jumps off onto the catwalk down back into the streets. “There. She has disappeared back into the abyss dangerous of Blüdhaven just as you wanted.”

“I didn’t mean it like that-”

“No, no. This is for the best. It’s not like we could have taken her with us.” He says standing up and continuing the hunt for crime.

The two continue leaping across rooftops for a couple more minutes, Jonathan getting noticeably better at this skill as time progresses, and unanimously decide to stop jumping on ceilings as they’re clearly not getting anywhere with this current strategy. Damian takes out binoculars from his toolbelt and scopes the city from the top of the current building they’re in while Jon leisurely makes cool poses next to him. 

Twelve different superhero poses later he’s tapped on the shoulder by his friend and pointed in the direction of a fancily dressed woman walking out of an opera house and a car swerving rapidly through the streets hitting lampposts, signs, newspaper stands, and any car parked in its way. The civilians on the street were running away frantically or calling the police but it appears that the lady below is too busy talking through an earpiece to notice.

“Is this a blue or a purple?” Jon asks nervously as he moves back to jump off the building to get to the distracted lady.

“You’re on purple for the bystander, I’m on blue for the inebriated driver, and we are both in a red situation.” Damian clarifies as he splits away from Jon across several rooftops to meet the car halfway while the younger boy crashes down from their current location and has to spend a few seconds regaining his balance before taking off.

The scene is completely hectic as it’s clear the theater letting out has caused a huge influx of people flooding into the streets who notice the situation and run the opposite direction, making Jonathan’s job of protecting people a lot harder. It’s at that moment Superboy sees the woman finally get off her call and notice the chaos beginning to erupt around her as the car, with Robin now inside trying to pull the drunk driver out of the car, headed right for them. Jon doesn’t have enough time to grab the rich-looking woman as she freezes in shock of what’s happening, so instead of taking her away from danger he pushes her out of it.

Jon only has enough time to register the steaming of the people around them as the yellow mustang that was terrorizing the streets makes contact with the side of his body, sending him flying into a streetlight above a nearby intersection and crashing down onto a pedestrian crossing. Immediately he can feel people lifting him up and checking on him asking him too many questions.

“Someone call an ambulance!”

“Just hang in there kid! Help is on the way!”

“Is he bleeding? IS THERE A DOCTOR!?”

Only mildly jarred by the experience, the caped child quickly stands up much to the hysteria of the well-dressed civilians, most likely from the opera house, and trots back to the lady he pushed out of the way. Next to her, he sees Damian put the car in park and take the keys while he also ties the driver’s hands behind their back. Jon sticks out his hand for the woman to take, and she allows him to pull her up. Once he let’s go she immediately wipes the same hand on her skintight scarlet dress as if she was repulsed by the contact. He’s not offended in the least as he has been touching a lot of dirty surfaces with his gloves so it only makes sense to be grossed out.

“Are you okay, miss?” He asks looking up at her face. 

The tattooed woman adjusts her askew shades, that she’s for some reason wearing while it’s dark, and fixes the chopsticks in her black hair before examining him curiously. “I’m fine, thank you very much. And what about you? How did you survive that hit?”

“I’m Superboy! I can take anything!”

“Mmm, I see. Assuming from your namesake, you’re related to Superman?”

“Yep!” He pipes up bouncing on the balls of his feet. “He’s my dad!”

Just then, his partner gets out of the car and throws the keys in the backseat before walking up to the two. “Superboy, we have other things to do! Let’s get a move on.”

“Robin, we have to make sure everyone is okay first! Isn’t that a heroic thing to do?” Jon replies, sticking his tongue out at the older boy.

“Robin?” The lady questions looking at the other child. “I heard Robin got a new costume change but I didn’t expect him to be an entirely different person.”

“You got a new costume?” Jon questions glancing at his friend who has clearly not gotten a new costume.

Damian rolls his eyes and glares at Jon. “No, she’s probably talking about that gossip in the Gotham Gazette about… What did you call him once? Red Robin’s new costume design.”

“Your brother got a new costume?”

“-Tt- Not my brother and it’s horrendous.” Damian groans, taking Jonathan’s hand and leading him away from the scene before the police could show up. “He’s clearly going through something because he suddenly insisted on only wearing black and red.”

“Wait, we didn’t check on everyone!” The child shouts looking back at the scene.

“That’s what paramedics are for.” They get to a safe and secluded distance away the masked boy checks his watch, something Jon didn’t notice he had on his person and lets out a frustrated grunt. “We better get back to the Robin-cycle. Our hour is almost up and if we want to make it back in time we best be on our way now.”

“Already?” Jon asks, surprised by the recent events. “But we barely did anything!”

“I’m amazed that you’re complaining. Aside from us already breaking the rules this should be a comparatively eventful day for you.”

“Yeah, cause getting shot, attacked by a cat, and getting hit by a car are totally heroic things that get me all giddy.” The younger boy sarcastically whines as he puffs his cheeks. 

“I never would have taken you for the glory-seeking type. I would have believed you to be positive and say that you saved a family, cat, and potentially several citizens from danger.” Damian points out as they backtrack through the rooftops back to the empty bridge. 

Jon pouts harder as they leap across another, now familiar, rooftop and replies, “I mean, yeah I’m obviously happy about that and don’t want to break the rules more but I was expecting some dangerous epic adventure fighting supervillains.”

Robin actually barks out a laugh as he looks back at the boy following him. “HA! Superboy, do you honestly think that I would be dumb enough to knowingly lead you, an untrained kid, into the arms of a supervillain? While there are villains in Blüdhaven none of them would be involved in the crimes we set out to stop this evening. They have bigger objectives to meet.”

“I guess.” Jon laments, feeling a bit disappointed in himself. “You’re right. We probably couldn’t take on a real villain yet. I only have one power.”

“Don’t worry Superboy, after some more training back at our fortress I promise we’ll be able to take on gradually larger threats together.” 

They make it back to the bike after about sixteen minutes of fast-paced movements they make it back to the underside of the bridge where Damian takes off the cloak and neatly folds the sheet back into the bike while putting on his helmet. He doesn’t take off his cape this time and instead opts to fold it into itself so that it wouldn’t get in the way of his driving. As he sits on the bike Jonathan notices that his usually violent friend doesn’t appear to have any weapons on him.

“Hey, Dami-”

“Names.”

“Robin.” Jon corrects, annoyed that he has to do that even though no one is around them, and hops on the seat behind him. “How come you don’t have a bunch of knives on you or a sword like you usually do?”

“Superboy, you should know by now that I always have them on me; you just can’t see them.”

“Where? Cause I’ve been hugging your back for two hours before we got here and didn’t feel anything.”

“I’ll never tell,” Damian states as he revs up the engine of the bike. “But it’s nice to know that you’re apparently always frisking me for weapons.”

“I’m not,” Jon replies rolling his eyes. “I’m just making sure you’re not hiding them someplace weird like up your butt or something.”

“What? No! That’s ridiculous and inefficient!” The child driver shouts as they set off back onto the road. 

Around half an hour later the two are on the top of the bridge that is thankfully not a high stakes ramp anymore and is now a normal dilapidated bridge when Jon hears something in the distance. It was the harsh motor of what sounded like several large vehicles behind them. He doesn’t know how he can hear it but as soon as he registered what it was it disappeared. It was almost as if a switch was temporarily flicked on in his brain only to have been quickly repressed. He lifts his head off of Damian’s back and turns to see nothing that should have caused the noise and chalks it up to his mind playing tricks on him. It was getting pretty close to his bedtime so it’s not strange.

Yet there was that weird feeling in his belly, that gut feeling, that Mr. Tim implied was a good thing. He rests his head on the older boy’s shoulder next to his ear to discuss the situation with his friend. “Hey Robin, we’re the only ones on this really long bridge, right?”

He can’t see the other boy’s face through the black visor of the helmet but Jon can assume that he’s probably looking at him funny. “Unless someone else is insane enough to drive along a condemned bridge set to be demolished, then yes.”

“What does condemned mean?”

“It means that this structure was deemed unsafe and will be blown to smithereens.” He explains nonchalantly.

“Are we going to blow up? How will people go to Blüdhaven if the bridge is gone?” Jon asks, suddenly worried they’ll be caught in an explosion. 

Damian sighs and elaborates. “We won’t blow up as we’ll be far from the city by the time it does, which isn’t for another two weeks. As for the transportation situation, the city already has several other bridges and even a brand new one so there will be other paths to lead here for those that need it. Is there a reason you so suddenly inquired about this?”

Jon pauses for a few seconds as he tries to organize the words in his head so that it’ll make more sense when he says it aloud. “For… A few seconds ago, everything got really loud and I heard a bunch of cars behind us but then it got quiet again.”

“... Hold on tight.” Damian immediately speeds up and zips off across the bridge at an insane pace while the younger boy tightly holds on just in time to not be flung off his seat. 

“Does that mean you heard it too?!” He shouts over the rush of wind roaring around them.

“I didn’t hear a single noise, but I’d be foolish not to trust the half-Kryptonian with the potential to develop advanced hearing!” He hollers as they get off the bridge and onto the open road. “It’s better to be safe than sorry!”

After a few minutes of racing through the streets and burning rubber Jonathan was begging to think that maybe they were overreacting as they still haven’t come across anyone or anything that could potentially hurt them. He’s about to tell Damian it was okay to slow down when he felt it; a narrow pressure in his side. Thanks to his very recent endeavor he knew exactly what hit him. 

A bullet.

“DAMI-”

“NAMES!”

“FORGET THE NAMES! WE ARE IN RED! DO YOU HEAR ME, RED!” Jon screams as he feels another hit the center of his back and drapes as much of his body as he can over his non-bulletproof companion.

“Then we better go in blue!” Damian shouts as he flicks open a panel in the front console of the motorcycle. “Where is it coming from?”

“What?!”

“WHERE ARE THE BULLETS COMING FROM!?”

He’s shot from behind again as he yells back. “Straight behind us!”

The older boy presses his thumb on a red button as small rockets shoot out from the back wheel well of the bike directly to the rear. A few seconds later a loud explosion can be heard from behind them as the shooting seemingly stops. Jon notices a stray bullet somehow stuck underneath his foot. He picks it up, just between the gap of his Heelys to find that the bullet doesn’t look like the bullet he saw earlier that day. It was filled with liquid and had a sharp green needled tip.

Damian notices this and shouts, “SUPERBOY THAT’S KRYPTONITE! Did any of those penetrate your skin?!”

Jon immediately checks his body, thankfully only finds one stuck in his cape. This one looked almost identical but instead of a green tip, it was a steel one. “This one was in my cape but I don’t think it went into my skin.”

“Superboy, we are beyond red. We’re in black!”

“BLACK?!” Jon shouts as he drops both bullets into the road. “You said that we wouldn’t need black!”

“Well, clearly the situation has changed!” He growls as he swerves onto an exit and onto a bustling highway, something they haven’t come across during their entire trip to Blüdhaven and back. He takes a deep breath, clearly reluctant to do what he’s about to do, and presses a green button with a phone picture on it. 

“This is a secured line-” A voice that is obviously Tim’s utters instantly through the muffled speakers.

“Robin, wait. The signal is coming from Nightwing’s old bike.” A female voice Jon doesn’t recognize cuts in.

“I have Nightwing’s Robin bike! I’m on it right now! Who is this?”

“No, like his really old bike! The first Robin motorcycle from when he started.”

“This is not the time for semantics!” Damian growls as he dangerously swerves between heavy traffic, gaining the attention of the many vehicles around them as Jon feels a familiar impact against his shoulder. Thankfully he sees that it was silver-colored and not green as it bounced off onto the concrete. “I am under attack! I repeat I’m under attack!”

“Demon Brat, what the fuc-”

“STATUS REPORT!” Nightwing shouts interrupting the current Robin’s profanity. 

“Currently being shot at by unknown enemies with access to heavy tranquilizers and kryptonite with the clear intent to sedate and capture! Location; Interstate 84 directly bordering Blüdhaven!”

“Don’t worry, I have a tracker on you- WHY DOES IT SAY YOU’RE IN THE CAVE!?” The man scolds. Jon can just imagine him now yelling at them in person and not an old speaker. 

“Is he talking about that thing you ripped out of your neck?” Jon asks as he checks behind them to suddenly find three black vans plowing through traffic pointing modified guns at them. “HOW DID THEY CATCH UP TO US SO FAST!?”

There’s a short pause before four voices begin screaming frantically through the line, two girls and two boys all simultaneous shouting making it hard to decipher who’s saying what.

“WHAT THE FUCK, WHAT THE FUCK, WHAT THE FUCK!?!”

“UNCLE CLARK IS GONNA KILL ME! WHERE IS JAYBIRD, HE WAS SUPPOSED TO BE WATCHING YOU!”

“WHY IS HE THERE WITH YOU!?”

“WHY!?”

Damian is about to answer the screams when he looks into the side mirrors and gasps as he veers the bike off the highway and onto a railroad seeing the men in the vehicle aiming to shoot into traffic. One of the vans followed them and quickly fired off as many shots as possible. Jon screams at the wild action but doesn’t have the energy to do more as he sees a silver needle hit his friend’s leg. 

“NO!” Jon shouts as he quickly pucks the metal out of his limb. “Dami! Dami, are you okay!?”

The boy attempts to answer but is unable to as he abruptly goes slack in his seat and slouches forward, causing the bike to begin wobbling. The radio of the bike becomes more incomprehensible with Damian’s unconscious body atop it but he’s still able to understand the words being said. He doesn’t have time to listen as he scoots forward and grabs the handles of the bike to steady them, praying that it’s exactly like riding his normal bicycle. 

“Superboy, what happened to Da- I- What happened to my brother!” Dick shouts hysterically hearing the commotion getting worse. 

Unfortunately, Jon cannot answer as the bike is still shaking and the van gets closer due to the lack of force being applied to the pedal Jon is unable to reach. Their only small saving grace is that Damian’s lip body is still applying some pressure to the accelerator making it that they aren’t just sitting ducks. He glances down at the older boy’s unconscious face through the tinted visor of the as tears begin to fall down his face.

“Oh Dami, I’m sorry! I’m sorry, it’s my job to protect you! I had one job and I failed! I couldn’t be your shield!” He cries hysterically as he is barely able to balance them in such an odd position and situation. “It’s happening again! He’s going to die again and it’s all my fault!

“Jo- Superboy, Superboy what happened! Superboy!” Tim shouts just as hysterically as Jon.

“Red Robin, it’s happening again! Just like Kon-el and Christopher all over again! I can’t protect anyone! I can never protect anyone!” He sobs as his vision begin to go blurry. Just his luck, of all the times to have a blackout it had to be now? 

“What is he talking about?”

“Superboy, it’s going to be okay, just get out of there for as long as you can and stay on the line!” 

“Oracle, have you called Supergirl or Superwoman yet?! FUCK, where’s Krypto!?” 

“Already on it but there’s a situation down in Metropolis with Luthor!” 

“DAMN IT!”

He’s not able to stay on the line as he feels a sharp stinging pain directly on the back of his neck, causing his arms and legs to grow weak. With the remaining diminutive quantity of his strength, he takes his hands off the handles and wraps his body around Damian’s unconscious head to protect him from the impending crash. The last thing he registers in his mind is the sound of crunching metal and the sight of a long red dress in the distance.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welp. All of that just happened.
> 
> So for the picture this week I drew a background! I HAAAAAATE drawing them but I had to do it eventually so there it is. BTW id anyone ever looks up Blüdhaven it is just full of neon signs. 
> 
> Anything I say now will be a heavy spoiler for the next few chapters. and even though I love spoilers I won't do that to y'all! Thank you so much for reading and see ya next time to see what happened to them!
> 
> Next Chapter: We see what happened to the boys after they get captured.


	14. Meta-Brawl!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We catch up with Jonathan as he faces his first battle alone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1900 people have officially read (Or at least clicked) this story and I'm so happy! Thanks everyone for this, and sorry that this chapter is short compared to other ones but it's meant to be this short.

Jon awoke to his only friend being taken away from his arms. He didn’t bother to register anything else about his surroundings as any persisting energy he might have carried in his lethargic state was instantly replaced with the panic of keeping Damian next to him. He immediately tightens his fingers from around the thick black and yellow cape as he desperately tries to keep the boy from being taken to who knows where as his blunt nails dig into the fabric. He doesn’t know why but all he feels is the intense desire to not let Damian out of his line sight. He needs to protect him, he has to. 

He begins to be dragged along with Damian, but a steeled toe boot punts him in the gut sending him hurtling into a nearby wall. The air in his lungs is forcibly beaten out of him by the impact causing Jon to struggle to get at least some air back into his lungs. The endeavor is proving to be difficult as the movement of his neck is hindered by a solid object encompassing his throat. 

Jonathan’s small bare hands go to tug at whatever is weighing him down only to realize that his neck isn’t the only joint being burdened by unfamiliar weights as his wrist was bound by metal bracelets. Running his fingertips on his nape he greeted by a similar cold surface of brushed metal and an indent of something smooth. He turns his wrist back curiously to find neatly cut green gems embedded on the inside. His eyes widen as he suddenly recalls the last few minutes before he became unconscious.

They’ve been kidnapped. 

In a frenzy, the half-Kryptonian stands to go back to his masked friend when he’s knocked back onto the floor by the shoulder stock of a rifle to his head. Jon doesn’t bother to see who hit him as he scrambles to his feet to where he sees Damian’s still unconscious figure being dragged away past large metal doors. He doesn’t make it in time as the exit is slammed closed taking his only friend left into the unknown. He begins screaming and furiously hammering on the steel barrier between them with his weak fists as his two captors do their best to hold back the struggling child.

“I hit ‘im in the head as hard as I could and the little shit is still kicking.”

“What do ya expect from a Super? Be lucky that synthetic kryptonite is holding back his other superpowers.”

“Yeah, I guess. Damn, we’d be in real trouble if he was able to use his laser eyes or super strength.”

“Roulette is a fucking cheap ass. This would be much easier if that was the real stuff; the kid would be completely powerless.”

He’s hit in the face again by another gun when a new voice appears from behind the double doors before opening to reveal a familiar slender woman with a large emerald dragon tattoo that runs all the way from the ankle of her red heels up to the shoulder of her dress. “Excuse me for not wasting millions on Kryptonite we were never planning on needing. Be lucky that the artificial stuff was even able to penetrate his skin.”

The two men immediately go quiet at her arrival and hold the panicking boy up as she walks closer to him. She lifts her gloved hand to Jon’s chin and glares at him as she calmly waits for him to settle down. Eventually, she realizes that he’s not going to do that any time soon and opts to instead walk to one of the boxes in what Jon now recognizes as a storage room and grabs a normal iron pole and dips it into a metal barrel of green liquid. The fluid immediately solidifies as she takes it out and she walks back to Jonathan with the weapon and strikes him across the face with it.

The force turns his head to the side as he begins to feel something he hasn’t felt in a long time; excruciating pain. “Aaaaaaaaaaaaarrrrrrrrrrrgggggggggggghhhh!” He hollers as a bruise begins to bloom on his pale cheek.

“Are we done now, or are you going to keep misbehaving?” She asks, sneering at him through her shades.

Jon turns back to look at her as his eyes widen in recognition as he feels the pain immediately subside. “Y-you’re that lady I saved from the car!”

“Aww~” The woman coos in mock flattery with her free hand on her chest. “You remember me.”

Blue eyes blink in shock as he tries to rattle his brain about the situation he’s in. “Why did you kidnap us! We saved your life-”

“Oh don’t start with that now, Superboy.” Roulette scolds waving her finger at the seven-year-old. “I’m glad you saved me and that’s the only reason you’re not going where your little friend is. I’ve paid my dues.”

“WHERE DID YOU TAKE HIM!?” Jon roars as his struggling begins anew only to stop as she raises the pipe again. 

“He’s been a very bad boy. Look what that little monster did to my hand.” She sets the weapon between her arm and rib as she takes off her glove to reveal a burnt hand covered in blisters. “I guess that’s what I get for trying to take off one of the little birdie’s masks. But don’t worry, if you do what I say and do it well you’ll get to see him again.”

“And why would I do what you say! You’re a big meany who hurt us!” Jon retorts as he holds back a flinch when she grasps the handle of the pipe again.

Roulette doesn’t strike him again but does answer his question; albeit in a condescending manner. “It seems that you don’t care for your friend as much as you let on.”

“I never said that!”

“Then does that mean you’ll hear me out?” Roulette asks aggressively with a rigid frown. 

Jon dips his head in dismay as he glares at the lady and grumbles a crudely tempered, “Fine, whaddya want?” 

She smirks then flings the armament across the room, seeing as she doesn’t need it anymore, and crosses her arms as she gazes down at Jonathan. “You’re going to fight in my Meta-Brawls.”

“...” He doesn’t know what that is.

“Don’t worry, it’ll make sense when you get in the ring.” She waves off his confusion and turns on her stilettos with a dramatically nonchalant wave. “Oh, and I’ll need you to win. If you don’t prove yourself valuable to me in this little test run then you can say goodbye to your little buddy. Nothing too difficult for the supposed son of Superman, right?” She cackles as she saunters away, the click of her heels echoing against the concrete walls.

Jon stares on after her as the goons drag Jon off in the opposite direction towards a different set of twin doors than the one Roulette and Damian went through. It’s at that moment the young Kryptonian has his first cohesive thought since he woke up, “I have to save Damian.” His second cohesive thought was not as dire but still as relevant which is, “My mom’s gonna kill me.”

He’s pulled by his upper arms from behind as the wheels on his heels assist them, the traitors. He rapidly moves his eyes in every direction possible in an attempt to find something that will tell him where he is or to at least see anything that could help him. Unfortunately, he’s not able to decipher anything about his current location as the concrete walls were completely bare and windowless. They pass by the occasional iron door with barred windows but it’s too dark to peek inside. Eventually, Jon is haphazardly cast inside one of the chambers and locked in before he could try to escape. The impact of the heavy door closing made an incredibly powerful racket that startled the other occupant in the room, causing them to yelp, turning Jonathan’s attention to them. 

The room is absolutely tiny and resembles more of a janitor’s closet with the only light being from a dangling fluorescent bulb in the hallway. This and the fact that the opening letting the light in was so comparatively small made it so that Jonathan couldn’t clearly see the person he’s stuck with. There was the frame of a person in the corner but their details were shaded in the darkness. The only thing the child could tell about their roommate is that they also appear to be the size of a kid. 

Doing his best to stay optimistic Jon puts on a smile so big his cheeks hurt and steps closer to them with an outstretched hand. “Hi! I’m J-... Superboy! What’s your name?” The cheerful greeting has the opposite effect than the one Jon desired as the other person curled into themself with their arms over their head most likely believing Jon would hurt them. He’s getting really sick of kids flinching away from him; he gets that enough at school. He steps back into the light, making sure that his face is illuminated to the best of his ability, and tries to chat again. “I’m not going to hurt you. I… Do you know where I am?”

“P-please stop talking.” a weak scratchy voice replies.

The child tilts his head inquisitively at them and hearing that their throat is incredibly dry looks around for some water. He unintentionally pats the side of his hips and surprisingly finds one of the juice boxes he packed earlier that day, or at least he thinks it’s the same day, hooked into the gold elastic of his waistband. He’s utterly bewildered by this development as he doesn’t remember putting it there but doesn’t question it as he tosses it to his cellmate. It should be fine as it’s the same juice box he put in the motorcycle compartment before they left their clubhouse. 

That was obviously not a smart move on his part as the person, now recognized as another boy if the pitch of his voice is anything to go by, screams at having something thrown to him. Immediately seeing the error of his way, Jonathan kneels down to their level apologetically. “Sorry, sorry! Please don’t be scared! It’s just juice, I swear I wasn’t trying to hurt you!” He pleads with his hands clasped together in some sort of prayer. 

“Stop lying to me!” The boy shouts, kicking the box away from him with his naked feet. “If they put you in a cell with me then that must mean you’re strong. They always put me up against the crazies!”

“Wha-” Jon begins to say but stops himself. “I’m not lying. Will it make you feel better if I taste-tested the juice? I wouldn’t hurt you with the juice of all things. I know what it’s like to drink something you can’t trust and I’d never do that to anyone.”

There’s a potent pause among them for what feels like forever but is probably only a minute at most before a pale hand reaches out from the gloom and grabs the box. “Fine, but only cause you look way too young to think about poisoning me.”

The sound of slurping fills the quiet room while Jon stands and starts to restlessly shift his weight side to side or fidgeting with his hand in an attempt to do anything other than be alone with his ever-increasing negative thoughts. Regrettably, the bad thoughts do catch up to him and consume him whole. He’s stuck in an unknown place for who knows how long in a dirty superhero onesie while his only friend in the whole wide world is missing. Now he’s in some weird prison run by someone Jonathan himself saved and forced to fight in a Meta-Brawl; something he has no idea about. Plus aside from all of that bad stuff, there is still the fact that if he ever sees the light of day ever again he’s going to be grounded forever and ever and ever and eve-

“Hey, you’re making me nervous with all that squirming.” The boy says with a much more accurate voice now that his thirst has been quenched. “I’m guessing by that smile on your face that you’re new. What’s with the silly costume?”

“I told you I’m Superboy! That this costume is not silly! My dad said so!”

“Geez kid, you sound like you’re five instead of nine.”

“I’m seven.” Jon pouts crossing his arms playfully and is eternally grateful for the kid speaking up and taking him out of his headspace. 

“Seven? You’re pretty tall for a seven-year-old.”

“I am.” Jon agrees as he is one of the tallest people in his class so he guesses that is a fair assumption. “Can you tell me your name or where I am?” 

There’s another pause between then before he hears the sound of shuffling from the dark corner of the room and the figure guardedly paces towards him to reveal a long bony face, pastel blue eyes, and vibrant red hair. “I’m Colin. As for where we are your guess is as good as mine. All I know is that you’re in the Meta-Brawl arena.” He signs looking down at Jonathan. “Where did Roulette steal you from?”

“Blüdhaven. D- I mean, Robin and I were driving out of the city after saving people on his motorcycle and she shot us with weird needle bullets. Next thing I know I’m here and that bully took my friend somewhere else!” Jonathan exclaims, throwing his hands up in the air. 

Colin quirks a brow at him as he tries to process what he was told before deciding to focus on the details that make sense to him. “Blüdhaven huh? That’s not too far from where I was taken. That must mean we’re at least still at least an hour from Gotham.”

“THAT’S GREAT!” Jon shouts practically jumping with joy at the news. “That means we’ll be saved in no time! Batman and all of his kids work in Gotham and will save us in no time!”

“You are… weirdly positive for someone who’s been kidnapped.” The redhead points out perplexed at the sheer audacity of this young child before him. “Also, shouldn’t you be more worried about your friend?”

“I’m super worried. I haven’t stopped worrying since I woke up, but being a Debby downer isn’t going to help me escape!” He claims, turning around and hopping in his toes to see out of the window on their door. “I just don’t know where he is. All I know is that he was taken in the opposite direction from me.” 

“That’s bad-like really really bad.” Colin gasps from behind Jon as the boy does his best to look in the direction his friend was taken.

“Why-” Jump! “Is-” Jump! “That-” Jump! “Bad?” Jump! He stops bouncing seeing that he’s not going to get anywhere in his current position and turns back to the older kid curiously. “We’re all in a really bad place so how can he be in a worse place.”

Colin shakes his head at the costumed child then steps back into the shadows to sit against the wall. Jon goes to sit next to him but the other boy holds out a hand faced outward to stop him. “Sorry, can you… can you just stay away from me? I’m not trying to be rude but I just- I need space. It’s really cramped in here.”

Jon holds both of his hands up in surrender and moves away until his back is pressed against the door on the opposite side. “Got it, no problem.” He concedes with a firm nod as he’s bathed in the dim light. “So can you tell me why that’s really bad?”

“... You sure you wanna know?” The redhead reluctantly asks with a shaky tone. 

“Of course I do!” Jon replies as he sits down to hopefully look the other boy in the face but he can’t be sure because he can’t see him clearly anymore. “If I’m going to save him I better know what I’m getting into.”

After another tense interval of silence, the older male begins to explain what might be happening to his friend. “Pass those doors are where the kids who can’t fight go and never come back. They’re sold to the rich or really messed up adults for who knows what.”

“Sold?” Jon questions with a confounded expression. “For what?”

“Whatever people want metahumans or kids for. What power does your friend have?”

“He doesn’t have powers. I think he’s just a normal- actually normal isn’t the right word. He’s weird but he doesn’t have any powers.” The child answers.

“Oh, I’m sorry for your loss then.” He grieves appearing greatly crestfallen for Jonathan. “Just hope that they don’t find him pretty cause nothing good ever happens to the pretty ones. You’ll be lucky if he’s still even here by the next hour.”

“Oh no.” Jonathan gulps holding the sides of his face in his suddenly sweaty bare hands. “He’s pretty. He’s so pretty! Like, you can’t believe how pretty he is!”

“Uhh…” Colin blinks at him as the boy begins muttering about how attractive his friend and awkwardly does his best to not outright shout at him to stop.

“Like holy crap, he kinda looks like a prince and honestly I still think he is one but he keeps denying it. His hair is so silky and shiny but not in that gross way hair gets if you don’t shower for a really long time. It’s like that really shiny fabric that’s made of plastic but is somehow a fabric and I don’t remember the name but I’ll remember it later. And his eyes are this dark green that is actually unreal! I know what green eyes are supposed to look like cause my best friend Kath- actually she’s my ex-bestie for reasons right now, has green eyes too but not like his. His eyes are a beautiful kind of green that glows but is still this really deep shade of green. The closest color I can compare it to is the jade green from my crayon box but even that isn’t good enough cause it’s like prettier than that-!”

“Um… Superboy-”

“His teeth are really white! They are so white and pearly. I brush my teeth every day and they still kind of look like a yellow-ish which is totally unfair and kinda makes me angry but not at him. I’m angrier at the world cause that’s just so wrong that I don’t have teeth like that-”

“Hey, Superboy-”

“AND LET ME TELL YOU ABOUT HIS ABS! What kind of ten-year-old has abs!? Like I never got the big deal about abs on tv with all of those weird commercials but now I see why people want them cause they look amaz-”

“Look, Superboy. I really don’t have the time for you to be going through your gay awakening right now.” Colin is finally able to say getting the younger boy’s attention. “The guards are beginning to round up in the hall, meaning that we’ll be put in the ring any minute now.”

Jonathan jolts back to reality at those words and pursues his lower lip in bafflement. “My what?”

“Oh my god, why is that what you hone in on? We have bigger things to worry about!” He shouts, throwing his hands in the air. “Look, you seem like a nice kid and I really don’t want to hurt you. If you’re in here that means that you have some crazy superpower. You probably think that you can win in a fight against me, but let me tell you now that you can’t. So when we get in that ring it would be best if you just stay down after the first hit to get it over with quickly.”

Before the half-Kryptonian is able to reply to the ground beneath them jolts violently as the sound of grinding gears reiterates through the cell. Jon goes to hold onto the wall for support but is yanked away by the back of his cape by Colin as the light from above fills the room. The door disappears downward and Jon realizes that he’s on an elevator, not a room. That was close, he almost got his hand sucked down by the moving platform; one of his worst fears next to falling into the teeth of an escalator. He turns around to thank the older boy and finally gets to see him in his full glory due to the light. 

His red hair is messy in a way that it was clear he hasn’t had a decent shower in a while as it hung loosely over his face and was caked in a dark burgundy. His clothes were a tragedy beige as both his shirt and pants were ginormous on his childish form making him appear tiny. Colin is also standing which is weird because he seemed adamant about sitting. Jon follows his lead and stands up as well, only reaching up just past his collarbone. Speaking of collars Jon can see a collar on his neck that’s similar to his own except there doesn’t appear to be synthetic kryptonite on his.

Glassy eyes look down at him solemnly as he hears him say, “You’re just a kid…” 

Jon doesn’t know why he has to point that out seeing as they’re both kids, yet doesn’t say anything as thunderous roars of what sounds like thousands of people fill his ears the closer to the top they get. When he finally sees what has been making the noise he becomes utterly shocked at the sight before him. He didn’t know what he was expecting from this experience, but he knows that it certainly wasn’t this. 

He’s inside a huge glass dome in the middle of what looks like a wrestling ring while surrounded by a crowd of confusingly well-dressed audience members who were waving money at them. This stadium is obviously indoors which doesn’t help Jonathan decipher where he is but he also can’t look at anything else due to the multiple floodlights blaring down at them. 

His attention is directed towards an enormous speaker as holographic screens appear all around them circling what Jon has officially dubbed, “The World’s Worst Snowglobe.” There’s a bit of static at first before Roulette’s smug face appears on the protections and begins speaking. “We’ve had a lot of excitement tonight ladies and gentlemen! It has been one of the bloodiest Meta-Brawls to date, full of drama, death, and even some of the largest bets wins in Meta-Brawl history! Now we’re going to even the playing field as we enter the semifinal to see who gets to participate in the grand finale of tonight!”

The audience goes wild at the announcement and nearly rocks the arena with the power of their screams. Jon has to cover his ears from inside the barrier just to focus on anything as he turns to Colin who is now standing on the other side of the dome as far from Jon as possible. The floor beneath him sinks causing the caped boy to hop off onto the floor of the arena. The hole is covered by a sliding portion of the ground making the ring complete and Jon walks to the opposite end. He’s seen enough wrestling to know where this is going. 

“You all recognize our three-time consecutive champion, ABUSE!” 

The audience hollers in recognition and excitement in response.

“But who is this new competitor?! He hasn’t been seen all night and he’s so young! Why you may ask, is he going against our champion?!” Roulette waits for the masses to stop clamoring before she responds. “Well, that’s because this little boy is none other than a full-blown Kryptonian!” The audience gasps in shock and mystification at the announcement and even Colin is looking at Superboy with wide eyes, clearly not expecting Jon’s little superhero name to actually hold meaning. “HE’S SO POWERFUL THAT WE HAD TO POWER HIM DOWN WITH REAL KRYPTONITE JUST TO GIVE OUR COMPETITOR A FIGHTING CHANCE! GIVE A ROARING META-BRAWL WELCOME TO SUUUUUUPPPPEEERRRBOOOOYYY!”

As the audience explodes in a fury of excited raves Jon looks at their hostess bewildered at her lies. He knows that he doesn’t have a good memory but he distinctly remembers her saying that this kryptonite was synthetic and he learned from Damian that it meant fake. Also while he didn’t test it, he knows that he still has his invincibility as the only time he was hurt by it was when she hit him directly with the stuff. That’s when he realizes that they had no way of knowing he only has one power so to them it must appear that he’s powered down. 

“READY, SET, FIGHT!”

He can’t tell if that’s a good thing or not but he quickly finds out his answer when in his confused haze he’s punched in the gut so hard he’s launched into the top of the dome then crashes back down onto the ground. His tiny body bounces twice on the somewhat springy platform as the spectators praise in jubilation at the act of violence. When Jon lifts his head from the ground he doesn’t see the other child anymore. 

No, he sees a large muscular man who was built like a brick wall. Like, that’s an entire man whose clothes fit him now and Jon is beginning to think that this is an unfair fight. He stands up only a little shaken much to everyone’s enjoyment and who he thinks is Colin dismay. The scarily large man glares at him and raises both of his arms up with his fist, fists the size of Jonathan’s head, balled up tightly.

“Stay down.”

With that his opponent brings his arms down and slams Jon back into the ground, his body bouncing again. As the seven-year-old lays on the ground he remembers what Roulette told him. He remembers that if he wins this match then he’ll get to see Damian again. With that in mind, Jonathan doesn’t stay down; he can’t afford to stay down no matter what Colin says. 

“What are you doing?” The man growls as Superboy struggles to his feet.

Jon gives his opponent a wobbly smile as he gets back on his feet and replies, “I’m going to fight you.”

After the words leave his mouth he’s struck again into the dome with enough force to shake the thick glass and as he falls back to the floor he’s instead punched again into the wall like a rubber ball on the playground. He’s repeatedly ricocheted between Colin and the barrier several times before he’s eventually dropped onto the ground. Pale blue eyes look down menacingly at him again and growl out. “Please just stay down.”

The sad words and that angry expression don’t seem to match, but Jon can’t focus on that as he stands up and glares back at him. “I’m sorry, I can’t do that. I have to save my friend.”

Once again he’s attacked before he has any time to react as both of his arms are grasped tightly and is taken for a ride as Colin holds him out and begins spinning him in circles like a helicopter before sending him flying headfirst into the other side of the stadium. Jonathan’s face skids along the glass making a comical squeaking sound that he definitely would have found hilarious if his feet weren’t captured to repeat the action but in reverse. This time however he is somewhat more prepared as he holds his hands and legs outward and pushes himself backward back towards Colin; a move that should never work and only does because Jonathan is indestructible. 

He hurls towards his startled adversary with a vengeance and wraps his legs around the redhead as he begins to beat his skull in with his titanium bracelets. The half Kryptonian isn’t strong by any means but getting hit with metal would definitely hurt for most people unless they’re super durable. Unluckily for Jon, Colin is one of those people as the man picks Jon up by his cape and twirls him around like a rope before flinging him upward. Jon falls back to the earth but doesn’t hit the ground as his arm is caught by the other boy and Jon begins to squirm to get out of his grasp unsuccessfully. 

Colin brings the younger child up to his face with a scarily furious expression, something Jon discerns is just his normal face in this form, and hisses, “Just quit it! Roulette isn’t going to keep her promise so just stop it and stay down! I don’t want to fight you!”

“Then don’t,” Jon answers simply as he weakly kicks his face. “You’re a good person.”

“I- what?” Colin gawks nearly dropping him. 

“You’re a really good person.”

Apparently, that triggers something in the older boy as he grasps Jon’s leg and is bent over his assailant’s muscular knee in a perfect 90-degree angle. The child falls to the ground and is pinned there by the boy’s dirty barefoot on his legs as an extra measure to keep him down. Uninjured by any of what just occurred, Jon quickly takes off his modified rainboots and slips out of the hold before wildly jumping on Colin’s back and covering his eyes.

Jon has no idea what he’s doing and he knows that but he’s just glad he’s made it this far with zero plan whatsoever. As the man attempts to grasp at his back Jon continues speaking to him. “I really don’t want to do this and I know you don’t either. You’re a really nice guy but I need you to stay down!” Jon wraps his cape around Colin’s thick veiny neck and pulls back as hard as he can by straightening his body and using the man’s broad back as leverage. “Even if she is a big fat liar I’d rather try than do nothing!”

Colin stumbles backward and falls directly onto his opponent. Jonathan clearly didn’t think this through as now he’s stuck under the larger kid with no leverage to get out from under him. That doesn’t stop him from struggling his best to escape. A big hand grasps his neck from behind causing Jon to be lifted odd from the ground as the other gets up. “Why are you so stubborn!?!” The boy shouts, shaking Jonathan furiously in his hand. 

“I’m not stubborn, I’m just not a quitter!” 

“That’s the same thing!” He roars as he spikes Jonathan’s body into the ground as he kneels down and begins repeatedly punching him further and further into the surface. 

He continues this line of action long enough for a noticeably sized dent to form under the little boy’s body as each impact hits harder than the last. Even after all of that when Colin believes he’s finally finished and stops the barrage of punches he finds Jonathan looking up at him unphased and smiling kindly at him. More worryingly he sees that the child isn’t staying down as he stretches himself upward.

In a panicked frenzy, Colin proceeds to hammer both of his fists down on Jonathan’s head again and the boy now understands that this entire time the older boy was holding back against him as the platform immediately caves underneath him causing one giant crater nearly the size of the entire fighting ring to form. Even his opponent is shocked by his own strength as he immediately recoils by the savagery of his own actions. 

Jonathan brushes off his own surprise quickly and looks directly into the other’s horrified eyes. “I’m never going to quit.”

“Wha-”

“I won’t stay down.” He rephrases as he sits up, those wide sky bly eyes never leaving colin’s face. “You’ll hit me again, and again, and again, and again for as long as you want. You could do it forever and I’ll still never back down. I’ll never quit. If you want me to stay down you’ll have to kill me.”

“Y-you’re insane!” The giant hollers picking Jonathan up by the collar on his onesie. “You’d die! What are you even saying! I’ll kill you and you’d be okay with that?!”

“No. I like living but it’s the only way you’re going to keep me down.”

Colin lifts Jon above his head and spikes him back down into the crater like a volleyball only to see Jonathan stand right back up. “S-stop getting back up!”

“No,” Jon says, picking up one of his boots casually while looking leisurely for the other one. “Actually, I’m going to stop fighting you. It doesn’t feel good fighting you because you’re a really good person.”

“So you’ll stay down?”

“No. I just won’t fight you. I don’t fight good people and I’m sorry I attacked you.” The boy pardons with a gentle grin and a shrug. “I’ll still get back up but I just won’t try to hurt you anymore. It wasn’t really doing much anyway cause you’re- like, super strong.”

“Why do you keep saying that! Why do you keep saying I’m a good person!?” Colin cries, hitting Jon into the ground again. “Don’t you see all this blood on me!? Don’t you see what I look like!?”

“Uh, Yeah?” The boy answers with his voice muffled due to his face being pressed on the ground. “But that doesn’t mean you’re bad. It’s clear you don’t want to fight anyone. You’re in the same situation I’m in and once I save my friend I’ll save you too.” He explains as he gets up on his feet and turns to look at him. “Also, I don’t see the problem with how you look. I’m kind of jealous that you get to be so strong.”

Colin brutally laughs at Jonathan’s words so hard the younger boy thinks he’s going to hurt himself. “Save me? SAVE ME?! That’s what Batman told me too but I just went from one terrible situation into another!” Before the child could ask what his opponent means he’s taken up again and slapped into the barrier once again. “The doctor said he was going to save me but I was sent to a horrible orphanage!” Colin catches Jon and flings him into the ceiling. “The orphanage director said she was going to save me but I was sold to this horrible place!” He catches Jon as he falls again and slams him down. “You’re just a freaking kid! So how are you going to save me, huh?!”

“I dunno but I will,” Jon answers like it was the most obvious thing in the world as he stands up once again. “It’s okay if you don’t believe me. You sound like you’ve been through a lot and honestly, I get it. It won’t be easy and I can’t promise everything will be okay, but it’ll at least be better than what we’re doing now.” He says putting one boot back on his foot and sees that he’s missing the wheel to it. Dang, and he just got that too.

“Why are you so confident?”

“Cause being hopeless is quitters talk and I ain’t no quitter,” Superboy explains looking calmly up at the towering figure before him. “Pa and mom didn’t raise no quitter.” 

Colin quickly picks him up by the collar again and gets right up into Jonathan’s face with the fiercest expression Jonathan has ever seen, next to Damian’s, and grits through his teeth a silent, “Hit me.”

“Huh-” Before Jon is able to say any real words he’s punched in the face sending him straight across the fighting ring and into the glass. Jon is extremely impressed by the durability of this material as he’s been thrown against it so much and yet there’s not even a crack. 

But back to more important matters Colin just told the child to hit him after Jon said he wouldn’t which is odd, but he’s smart enough to know that he’s planning something. This time he lands on his feet and runs up to the large redhead and gives him a, rather weak and sloppy, punch to his rock hard torso. The man doesn’t even bother to doge and Jonathan’s eyes widen as the boy is abruptly launched directly into the dome before falling with an unmerciful thump and reverting back into the form of the child he first met. 

“HOLY COW!?” Jon screeches as he runs up to the limp boy on the floor as the audience he forgot existed begins gushing passionately at the takedown. He ignores them once again as he lifts the boy’s pale face with worry and tries to wake him up. “Oh my gosh I’m so sorry, I didn’t know I was that strong and I’m totally sure I don’t have super strength yet but if I did this is the worst time for me to get it or maybe the best but I really didn’t want to hurt you-”

“ABUSE IS UNABLE TO GET UP! OUR WINNER IS SUPERBOY!” Roulette interrupts Jon as the announcement overtakes his rambling apology. “SUPERBOY WILL MOVE ON TO THE FINAL BATTLE OF THE NIGHT! PLACE YOUR BETS!”

“Wait, no! Colin, are you oka-”

“Shh, I’m fine.” The boy whispers softly with his eyes and body still limp. “I’m counting on ya.”

Jon immediately nods his head with relief seeing that the boy is okay and responds, “I- of course!” 

Seconds later Colin’s collar makes a horrible beeping noise before a terrible buzzing echo through Jon’s ears and he sees the boy in his arms violently seize up with an agonizing scream before going limp for real. Horrified by what he just witnessed Jon holds the boy in his arms tighter and tries to shake him back awake. That’s when guards arrive from the ground elevator used to take them here and drag the older child away to Jonathan’s opposition. 

He watches nervously as Colin disappears back down to where they first met hoping that he’ll be okay by the time Jonathan figures out how to save him, or at least when Damian’s siblings find them. Jon gets up and picks up his other boot that still has it’s wheel on it and then locates his lost roller. He eventually concludes it as a lost cause seeing that it’s nowhere to be found and hypnotizes that it was caught in the elevator. 

The floor of the ring vibrates and slowly begins to straighten itself out until there wasn’t a giant Superboy shaped crater in the center. Confused, Jon walks around to the center of the ring where the elevator left through and sees it come back up. As the platform moves closer to him the announcer begins talking again much to his annoyance.

“Alright everybody, place your bets! There are only a few minutes left before tonight’s finale begins! You saw it for yourself folks, Superboy may be young but he cannot be knocked down! And did you see that punch? He took down our powerhouse in just one hit!” Roulette rouses the audience who all begin to fiddle with computers attached to their velvet chairs. 

Jon sighs tiredly as he’s disappointed that he doesn’t even get a break between this fight and the next but then again he has only been fully conscious for about an hour. Sure a bunch of stuff happened to him during that time but it seems like he should be getting whiplash with how fast everything is happening. How long has it been since he’s even been in here anyway?

“Superboy may be a formidable opponent but will he be enough to take down our newest contestant! You have seen him since the beginning of the night taking down fighters twice his size and twice his age with impeccable skill and mercilessness! You saw him behead thugs with powers strong enough to move mountains, kill some of the most skilled criminals this side of the underground, and take hits that would put the most skilled of heroes to shame! With a current body count of seven here he comes now!”

“Geez,” Jon thinks aghast at what he’s hearing. “What kind of psycho are they making me fight?”

“Ladies and gentlemen, I give you the newest birdie of Gotham: ROBIN!”

Oh, that psycho. 

Blue eyes widen as the elevator stops its ascension to reveal his previously unconscious friend in all of his prideful glory standing over him. From behind Damian’s mask, Jonathan can see the boy glaring at him through the glassy white lenses of his mask. Elated, the child immediately goes to hug his companion only to be coldly kicked away by the sole of Damian’s boot. 

“Oops, sorry. I forgot you hate hugs.” Jon responds as he gets up. “Da- I mean, Robin! I’m so glad you’re okay! I thought they took you somewhere else! But now that you’re here we can think of a plan to get out of here! Also, we have to save this kid I met, he’s really nice!”

Strangely enough, the older child doesn’t answer Jonathan and gets into a fighting stance as he reveals his katana from the loop of his belt that the Kryptonian unquestionably doesn’t remember being there earlier. With a flourish of his hooded cape, Damian draws out the blade to reveal that it’s coated in green. If Jonathan was a betting man he’d guess it was from that synthetic kryptonite he remembers from the storage room. 

Jon apprehensively stares at the sharp toxic sword in his friend’s hand with a startled grimace as he tries to communicate with him again. “Uhh, Robin?”

“All bets have been placed!”

Seeing that the boy isn’t responding Jon glares up at the Projection of Roulette above him and shouts, “HEY, WHAT IS WRONG WITH HIM!?! WHAT DID YOU DO TO HIM!?!”

“READY!”

Superboy frantically looks back to his partner again and tries his best to get any kind of reaction from him. “Dami, come on, snap out of it! I just used your name, doesn’t that at least want to make you nag at me?”

“SET!”

“Dami, please, put that down! I’m invincible but that stuff will actually hurt me!” He cries stepping back away from him.

“FIGHT!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not nice to Colin but I swear I love him. 
> 
> I love reading comments because I love knowing the emotions I'm invoking in the readers and it helps me know if I'm doing the thing I wanted to do. Apparently I am so YAY!
> 
> Next Chapter: Damian's POV of their captivity.


	15. Innocence

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Damian enters Roulette's clutches comes to some startling revelations about his relationship with Jonathan.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, graphic violence warning! Just a quick heads up.
> 
> Other than that thank y'all for the support, kudos, comments, and hits! We are in the 2000s and we are all now suffering together!

Damian woke up surrounded by raging flames with his skull cradled by small thin arms. He immediately takes off the motorcycle helmet on his head and pulls himself away from his partner’s embrace to get a better grasp of their surroundings. Next to them is the burning pile of scrap metal that used to be Grayon’s first bike surrounded by the decent amount of foliage near the train tracks they attempted to escape with. 

The young assassin focuses on his surroundings and is able to hear an engine cut off in the distance approximately 30 meters from their current location. He doesn’t waste any time as he crutches down and sprints towards the debris to grab his blade from the undercarriage of the vehicle, but stops as the sound of feeble coughing reaches his ears. He glances behind him to see the alien child miserably hacking from the noxious fumes entering his lungs. 

Emerald eyes glare at the pathetic excuse of a fighter and he honestly has half a mind to leave him behind and make an escape by himself. It wouldn’t be like he was completely abandoning him because he would most definitely track him down later. The idiotic sap wouldn’t even have to know he was left behind. The child was practically wrapped around his finger with all the work Damian has put into conditioning his loyalty to him and would probably be glad his ‘friend’ got away safely.

“D-Dami…” He hears Jonathan’s brittle voice mewl from his unconscious form.

Gods above have mercy on Damian’s soul; he really hates this kid. His mother always did say that he was weak to animals and this boy was the humanoid form of a pitiful puppy. With an annoyed growl from the depths of his throat, he swipes the blade he set out to take as well as the two juice boxes from the seat compartment. The dumb sugary drinks are warm but he notes they didn’t suffer any damage as he moves walks back next to the younger child and easily carries him over his shoulder deeper into the forest. 

He’s not able to get far as he’s quickly under siege by tranquilizers from his rear and ducks behind one of the larger trees closest to them. Damian clicks his tongue in disgust at having to rescue his own shield from danger but he can’t risk any permanent damage to his most reliable asset. What else is he supposed to do, let him get captured?

While he’s internally complaining about this situation he climbs the wood he’s using as a refuge and balances the smaller child on a particularly stable branch before squatting down with his blade drawn. If those fools want a fight, then he’ll fight. It’s been a while since he was properly allowed his beloved blade to taste the blood of his enemies.

He gravely recalls his most recent exploit with great disdain as his father roared at him for beheading a lowlife criminal he and that infuriating hack of a Robin was after. The grenade in the criminal’s mouth might have been a bit dramatic but if his grandfather taught him anything it was to always leave an impact. Today’s exercise in Blüdhaven wasn’t only for Jonathan but also for himself. He wanted to test if his father’s methods were going to work for him and concluded that while it does have his uses he cannot afford to keep these threats alive.

Things are definitely much easier when he can just eliminate the source of the problem now. Begrudgingly he opts not to commit homicide as even though it would be incredibly easy to just take their lives now and leave himself with plenty of time to escape. Damian also cannot afford to do that right now as he knows he’s already on thin ice with his father and his mother will be incredibly ashamed of him once she finds out he lost his father’s favor. 

Six men appear below them with modified rifles and from the look of them, it’s clear that none of them is the ringleader. If Damian knows one thing the leader never dresses as basic or plain as their servants. His options are limited as Batman has strict rules against crippling people for life and he harshly exhales through his nose in frustration. If he didn’t know any better he would have thought that all these restrictions were some cruel way to test the Demon Son’s patience. 

He tucks one of the juice boxes into the metallic gold waistband of Jonathan’s stupidly designed uniform in case he wakes up soon in hopes of sedating him and tosses the other one out of the tree into the adjacent bundle of leaves. With the guard’s attention diverted he immediately strikes as he descends into the cluster of armed men to cut them down in mere seconds. They wildly shoot at him but they are unfocused and uncoordinated making it easy for Damian to dodge them. He slashes the back of their legs before promptly stepping on each of their backs and pulls their arms out of their sockets so that they won’t be able to pick up their armaments. These plebeians were clearly not even half as trained as he is since they go down so easily. 

The only problem with not killing his victims is the fact that their screams are so loud. There isn’t the satisfaction of cutting off a desperate cry for help in its wake or the beautiful silence of a job well done. If he wants his sufferers to squeal then he would have allowed it, which he certainly does not at the moment. He sheaths his blade and lifts the handle to knock each of the crying assailants in the back of the head to knock them out, but he’s a terrible judge of strength and he has to hold back to ensure that none of them die by accident. Some of them take several hits as his weakened attacks do not do the trick on the first try.

“What the fuck is wrong with you!?” The last of the assailant shouts with an embarrassing crack in his voice.

Damian doesn’t bother answering that foolish question as he is not the problem here. He is not the one who ruined his fun and firmly made sure that he would not be getting out of the manor ever again. He hits the adult with a bit more force than necessary before turning around and going back into the tree to pick up Jon. He awoke from his sedative rather quickly so he assumes that the other boy should either be awake or near waking by now. He looks to the branch he left Jonathan on only to find it empty. He doesn’t panic as he goes through the plausible reasons. 

First, he looks down to make sure the idiot didn’t fall and hit his head; the boy is already short a few brain cells and needs all that he can get. He doesn’t find anyone below so he can check that option off his list. Next, he checks the surrounding area to make sure he wasn’t taken in his short absence and doesn’t see any displacement in the environment around them that suggests an unknown intruder. Finally, he looks up as that is the angle a predator would even naturally look for its target. To his surprise, option number three was the correct one as he sees the boy leisurely kicking his legs and beginning to hum a familiar little tune. He doesn’t have the time nor the energy to decipher it as he climbs up to the higher branches to meet up with him. 

Annoyed, Damian runs his hand over his face as he takes a seat next to the indecently chipper seven-year-old who is playing with the kryptonite tranquilizer bullet he pulled from his neck. The young Wayne sighs as he learns that shouting at the stubborn child rarely has the results he desires no matter what he says then proceeds to speak to him with a tired tone. “Why are you up here Superboy? We need to be thinking of a way to not get penalized for this idiotic transgression.”

The boy doesn’t answer him as he keeps humming that stupid little waltz irritating Damian further. Why wasn’t this chatterbox of a boy talking to him? He groans in frustration and scratches the sides of his head furiously at the situation. “Arrrrgggghhhh! And we were so close to getting away with it too but then this happens!” 

Jonathan doesn’t answer.

Fed up with the lack of response, the ten-year-old finally breaks and violently shakes the boy with a feral growl from deep within his throat. “WHY ARE YOU NOT SAYING ANYTHING!? A scream, a complaint, even one of those infuriating ‘I told you so’ that Drake is always telling me would be preferable than your poorly timed mastering of shutting your mouth!”

The colorfully dressed child instantly stops humming and finally looks in his direction to reveal vacant sky blue eyes. He’s seen that look before and immediately knows he’s having one of those silly shutdowns. Damian did have a theory that they were triggered by stress but they don’t always line up that way so he quickly got rid of it. It seems that at any moment Jonathan could go to spacing out several times a day to once every few weeks and the randomness of it all is utterly baffling. Though it is new that Jonathan is able to have full function of his body during one of these episodes. Then again he does remember the boy yelling nonsense during their confrontation with Drake in the Batcave, so maybe this isn’t new.

“Hey Red!” Jon greets excitedly with a cute little wave as if he was returning a kind greeting rather than an enraged outcry. “You’re late! What was taking you so long? And don’t tell me you were stuck in traffic again; we both know that rooftops don’t have any!”

The older kid blinks from behind his mask and cautiously begins to play along with whatever delusion the other was experiencing in order to gather more information on Jon’s condition. “I… slept in?” Damian internally groans at himself for such a stupid answer but it turns out that it didn’t matter as Jonathan’s own answer made even less sense. 

“Really? Superboy can handle himself. You don’t have to help him with everything ya know?” Jon looks up as if his friend was about two heads taller than really he is. “Besides, Dick and Dami already have a headstart on us so we have to go now if we ever want to catch up!”

“Names.” Damian unconsciously lets slips from his lips before he can stop it. 

“I know, I know. Names, names, names. It’s not like anyone is going to hear us from all the way up here!”

Huh, that was surprisingly well-timed. 

“Besides, even if I did use our superhero names it’s not like it would make any more sense… Oh, this? I got bored so I decided to stop a few crimes on the way here. When will people learn to not shoot the invincible kid?” Jonathan continues even though Damian hasn’t said anything to continue the conversation. “Whaaaa, Nah. What kind of thug would spend millions on actual kryptonite in Gotham of all places? Black Mask? Joker? Ivy? Why are you Bats always so paranoid?”

Damian does his best to decipher the circumstances in which this imaginary conversation could be taking place when the branch suddenly shakes at Jonathan jumping to a stand on the branch with uncharacteristically graceful swiftness. The delusional child still looks above Damian’s head with a stupid grin and announces, “That doesn’t matter right now, Red. Come on! We gotta start now if we ever want to catch up to Di- I mean, Batman and Robin!”

With that, the boy leaps to jump off and Damian is barely able to hook his legs around the tree as he swings upside down to grab Jonathan’s hand and catches him mid-fall. That’s when he notices the faint glint of light in the distance near the wreckage of his motorcycle and swings Jonathan in front of him to shield himself from the pullet about to hit him. The child’s eyes close again at being hit with a kryptonite tranquilizer, and the older boy can faintly hear Grayson telling him the importance of protecting your teammates from that stupid game Todd made them play once in his mind. Meh, if one of them was going to get hit it might as well be the kid with powers.

He tosses Jonathan over his shoulder once again and traverses down to the ground and begins sprinting back towards the highway where he told his father’s charges he was located. He checks his watch to see how much time has passed and is pleased that it’s only been over half an hour since the call was made meaning that they should be here in the next few minutes if they were traveling via road. He’s nearly there when he feels a prick in his forearm causing him to crash onto the ground.

At that moment he makes several notes of things to do when he gets out of this situation: Reinforce his uniform with nonporous material so that thin needles couldn’t slip through the knit of the fabric, add more delusions in the file Damian has been keeping on Jonathan’s condition, and add their assailant’s name to the league’s list of people to kill on site. Jon is dropped directly in front of his body as he falls to the ground and he does his best to remain conscious for as long as possible but he’s not able to as the world around him goes black.

The second time Damian wakes up that day, or at least he thinks it’s the same day, Jonathan is nowhere to be seen. He’s also tied to a metal picnic chair so that’s going to annoying but it's only mildly bothersome to get out of and still relatively easy. The hooded boy scans the room for any guards, villains, cameras, or any other security measures in place made to stop him from escaping to find that he’s in what looks like a storage room of some concrete and metal warehouse. 

Five guards to his rear, two on his left, two on his right, and only one in front of him; all armed with an assortment of regular firearms and tranquilizers. No cameras. He shifts his body slightly to not let on that he’s awake and checks his current arsenal. No sword, no knives, still have his mask on his face, kneepads are stilled strapped on securely, he has one shuriken up his glove still, and his watch is missing. Okay, Damian can work with this. He prepares to break free and surprise attack them when metal doors open to reveal a familiar woman holding a tablet to her face while a bodyguard behind her carries a still unconscious Jonathan in his arms. The leather-clad child immediately stops what he’s doing to listen in on the conversation she’s having with an unknown man.

“I don’t understand Lex, I’m giving you the first pickings at a full-blown Kryptonian, all yours for the low low price of 3 billion dollars. Why are you squandering this opportunity?” The woman is clearly confused but also highly interested in his response.

A sigh comes through the speakers who Damian now knows is most likely Lex Luthor, arch-nemesis to Superman, answers, “Roulette, I thought I specifically told you I was trying to break away from this life. I made my intentions perfectly clear that I want nothing to do with you or any other villain operations.”

“Riiiiiight.” Roulette drawls out condescendingly rolling her eyes behind her glasses. “If you were really trying to stop working then why is it that all current Supers on the planet are attacking your base of operations?”

There is a tangible pause in the air before the man weakly proclaims, “... That’s unrelated.” 

“Sure it is, sure it is.” She laughs, throwing her head back. 

“I don’t like the tone you’re taking with me, Roulette. I might be quitting but I still have connections that could-” Luthor begins to threaten when he’s interrupted by a much younger masculine voice in the background bursting through what sounds like heavy wooden doors.

“Dad holy FUCK! Superwoman just crashed one of your robots through my window and ruined my progress in Animal Crossing!” The young male cries out clearly infuriated about the events he just described.

“Conner!” The man hollers to the voice clearly irritated at the interruption. “What have I told you about coming into my office while I’m on a video call!”

Several crashes can be heard on the other end of the line as it appears whatever structure the businessman was in is currently being destroyed. Angrily this Conner character begins his yelling anew. “Well excuse me for running to my parent when my home is being attacked! Maybe I should call Mercy and have to explain to her why I suddenly don’t have Audie on my island anymore! I bet she would love to hear why her favorite villager was suddenly not in my game before I even got to show her!”

“She is on her well deserved yearly paid vacation and you will not interrupt it with your silly rantings,” Luthor shouts back to the young male.

The woman chuckles at the situation and turns the device camera away from Jonathan to herself and jokes, “Is fatherhood not treating you well, Lex?”

“Please ignore him.” The man groans in a similar manner Damian’s own father does every time he does… well… anything.

“You can’t ignore me! I’m still here and I’m calling Mercy!” Conner shouts as heavy footsteps retreat further away from the microphone. 

“Son it’s only a game!”

“It’s my freaking life cause you won’t fucking let me have a real one! I can’t live inside this tower forever, Dad!”

“Conner stop sounding like a Disney princess- CONNER! Argh! This conversation is over Roulette!”

“Of course, go on and take care of your little diva.” Roulette teases before hanging up the call and handing the tablet to her servant and directs her attention to Damian.

She saunters up to him with a bit of a kick in her step as she gestures for the man to put Jonathan down on the ground where Damian finally notices that there are a series of implements around his upper joints that have some kind of kryptonite material on them. If he had to guess they were some kind of makeshift power reducing apparatus constructed with magnetized bindings. She stands directly in front of Damian’s limp body and reaches a bare hand to his mask and promptly tries to rip it off his face.

Unfortunately for her Damian prepared himself for this specific scenario and changed the plain boring mask his father had gifted him into a weapon of its own. The woman is immediately shocked by 240 volts of electricity directly to her hand causing the distinct scent of burnt flesh to waft through the air much to her guards’ horror and disgust. The tattooed lady is pulled away by one of the female attendants around them as she looks at the marred skin. With a bestial snarl, she kicks her heel to Damian’s gut, and he easily manages to not make a sound when he hits the hard floor painfully pinning both of his arms underneath his body and chair frame. 

“Get up brat! I know the drug should have worn off by now!”

The child doesn’t move or let on he’s actually awake even though her sharp gaze suggests he knows otherwise. She pulls one of the silver chopsticks out of her neat bun and angrily stabs the instrument so far into the costumed child’s thigh he can feel it scrape against his bone. Even after that Damian doesn’t even tense up, he doesn’t make a sound, and he certainly refuses to let on how much pain he’s in; his mother has done far worse to him. He didn’t break then and he certainly wouldn’t break now no matter what she did to him.

What he didn’t expect but should have was her next action. As she yanks the needle out of him she stares at the blood disdainfully and tosses it aside before grabbing the other one in her hair, causing her midnight locks to flow down past her back. She angrily walks to a metal bin that is unmarked and stands out from the rest of the containers around them. It’s unmarked but the contents don’t remain a mystery for long as she opens it to reveal a distinct shade of toxic green.

Kryptonite green.

Normal kryptonite isn’t liquid so that could only mean that that stuff is a counterfeit variant that he recalls Blackmarket scientists have been trying to create for nearly a decade. While none have been successful in perfectly recreating the rare mineral that doesn’t mean that the counterfeit is harmless by any means. It’s clearly able to penetrate Kryptonian skin if their experience earlier is anything to go by. She dips the chopstick in the liquid and takes it out to show that it’s now the same green as kryptonite and walks towards Jonathan. She holds the needle to the child’s neck and looks back towards Damian with a vicious smirk. 

“If you care about him then I’m sure you wouldn’t want to see your little friend hurt.”

Damian’s eyes widen from behind his mask as he debates whether their captor was bluffing or not but doesn’t have to even do that as he sees the weapon stab through Jonathan’s neck. In seconds the older boy is out of his confinements and tackles the body out of her hands where he holds him close to his chest. “Superboy!” He shouts as he examines the nape wound as the boy gargles on his own blood even while unconscious. “Nonononono!”

“I guess you do care.”

He ignores her in favor of trying to apply pressure on the boy’s throat to stop the bleeding as he goes through every thought in his head. He can’t let him die, he can’t die like this! This idiot cannot die! Damian has stabbed him countless times, used him as a human cannonball, and other human acts but he refuses to let him die at the hands of some ugly harlot in a cold storage room!

“Come on Superboy, heal! You’re not supposed to be hurt, you’re not human! You’re not supposed to be human!” If Jonathan dies it would be all Damian’s fault and he can’t let that happen. It’s his fault that the two are even in this situation. All of this was his idea but how was he supposed to know things would go this badly! Jon’s condition wasn’t getting better as he still feels the boy’s warm blood on his gloved hands and his faint pulse beneath his fingers. Why can’t he save him? Why can’t do his hands only kill instead of saving? His palms rapidly shake in fear of someone he cares for dying on him. 

“Fuck!” Damian swears in his head feeling that he is using that word properly. “This completely dense fool is making me care about him and he’s dying before I can even punish him for it!” 

After his poorly timed revelation, a hand lays itself on his shoulder which is the worst thing anyone could have done at that moment and he immediately takes out the weapon in his glove and cuts off their hand. If he can’t save his friend then he’s gonna make sure he kills everyone one in the room in a blaze of crimson gory. His father’s askew moral compass be damned they just killed the only ally he had in this godforsaken world outside his home!

He jumps back with a growl, throwing his own self imposed limits away and proceeds to kill anyone senseless enough to even get remotely close to him. He starts with the guard he just amputated and proceeds to stab him repeatedly in the throat three times before taking his gun and shoots the five goons in the back all right between the eyes before they could shoot him first. The four people on the side of the room are still frozen in fear giving him enough time to take out two of them with the remaining shots. 

That’s when everyone else moves into action. Roulette is running away screaming for backup in a terrifying pitch clearly not expecting one of Batman’s birds to be so quick to kill. She shouldn’t worry about her life just yet, Damian has plans for her; Very graphic and gruesome plans. The two guards next to him are the first to react as the young assassin takes his shuriken out of the body below him and throws it at the man closest to Jonathan’s body. It hits him directly in the chest but doesn’t kill him as throwing stars are rarely lethal. No, what is lethal is when Damian leaps onto the thug’s shoulders and beats his skull in with the butt of the pistol until the cranium is concave to the point he could eat his cereal out of it.

The other three guards fire wildly at him and he pulls his thick cape up to block the tranquilizers aiming directly at him while he takes the weapon of the servant he just murdered. Surprisingly it wasn’t a gun but a set of brass knuckles and thankfully for Damian, he’s proficient in all kinds of weapons. He also grabs one of Roulette’s needles that she so thoughtlessly tossed, the one covered in his own blood. 

“Stop! He’s fine!” One of the henchwomen shouts still shooting at him.

He doesn’t stop as he throws the needle directly into her eye and out the other side of her head. Her other compatriots run out of ammo as Damian whips the tranquilizers out of his cloak and kicks both of them in the knees with a rapid flurry until each of their legs are broken and their patella shattered. He goes to beat their heads in with his recently acquired brass knuckles when the reinforcements arrive with Roulette in tow making it clear his current victims will have to wait a bit more before meeting their end. 

A hail of tranquilizers rain down upon him and he doesn’t even bother to dodge them. Damian has already calculated the amount of time he has left before the drug takes full effect and that’s all the time he’ll need. He jumps on top of the goon shielding Roulette and knocks him out with a punch to the face before grabbing the woman in question’s hands and forcing them onto his mask electrocuting her even further. The problem with that is the pain also affects Damian and he falls limp to the ground before he could finish his mission. 

“Jesus Christ…” One of the guards breathes looking at the bloody scene in front of them. “I thought Batman doesn’t work with meta.”

“A Meta?” A different henchman questions standing over Damian’s motionless form.

“Well, how else do you explain the crazy shit the brat pulled! No normal kid could do all of this!”

“Arrgh!” Roulette groans holding her burnt hands before kicking the ten-year-old in the side repeatedly with her sharp stiletto heel. “This isn’t a meta. I’ve worked with enough to know that he’s just trained. That doesn’t mean anyone else will know.” Still barely able to see, green eyes watch the long-haired woman pull out a tiny old fashion communicator from behind her back. “I’ve kept this little antique from my time fighting the Justice League.” She sticks it into his ear and snaps for one of the guards to bring her the tablet from next to Jonathan and once it’s in her hands she fiddles with it and the thoughts in Damian’s head go fuzzy.

Damian awakes to the sound of meowing next to his windowsill. He gets out of his ornate bedding trots along the gold plated ledge to find a beautifully white Shirazi with the most stunning crystal blue eyes he’s ever seen lazing about. He picks up the creature in his arms with no protests before beginning to stroke her fur. She puts against the fine silk of his robes and the six-year-old’s heart melts for the first time in who knows how long. 

Slender fingers rap against the wood of his door and the small tan-skinned child quickly tosses the cat back on the window as he runs to open the door. The second he opens it an even darker-skinned woman with the finest of brown locks and emerald green eyes enters the boy’s chambers. “I heard you getting up.” 

“Yes Mother, I heard something in my room and thought it to be an intruder but it was just a cat.”

The woman hums and her slim digits pluck a white hair from her son’s black silk attire with an empty smile. “A Shirazi?” She asks with what sounds to be a genuine interest.

Thinking his mother also wants to see the lovely feline he smiles at her and gestures to the fluffy white ball with eyes laying on his pane. “Yes Mother, isn’t she beautiful?” 

Talia saunters to the feline and holds it into her arms the same way Damian had just moments ago. The child’s grin widens seeing the sight of his beautiful mother and the cat together but his elated expression is quickly replaced with mortification as she hands the cat back to him dead. The child cradles the poor creature despairing and nearly cries at the sight when his mother takes the boy’s chin into her hands forcing him to look into her disappointed expression.

“My love, you are still so weak.” She coos brushing a tear from the corner of Damian’s eye with her sharp thumbnail. “You still shed tears for something so innocent and vulnerable. We must fix that right away.” Talia sets a small knife covered in the cat’s blood atop its body still in her son’s hands as she walks away. “You are already awake so we should start now. Come, my child.”

Damian looks at the cat in his arms sadly as he walks behind his mother and learns that he shouldn’t hold anything pure for they will die in his red-stained hands.

The scene changes in a whirlwind of colors and events until it settles to himself painting on one of the many cliffs of Infinity Island. The oils on the canvas are placed precisely the way he wants them to be but for some undiscovered reason, he is not satisfied. No matter what he adds or takes away the masterpiece is still never enough.

“My Lord, maybe some time away from the arts will be relaxing.” An elderly servant who has been observing Damian’s struggle suggests next to him.

The eight-year-old sighs at the suggestion and glares at the kind-eyed man. “Ravi, you tell me that art is relaxing for the soul and now you tell me I need a break to relax. Pick. One.”

“I mean no confusion, Lord Damian.” He apologies with a deep bow. “I mean no harm with my words. I just want the best for you and this current predicament you’re in doesn’t appear to have the desired effect.”

“Predicament?” The boy scoffs haughtily as he crosses his arms and looks back to the landscape of his home. “I am under no  _ predicament _ , Ravi!”

“I apologize for making such rash assumptions then.”

“As you should.” Damian huffs as he stares at the painting. The longer he stares the less content he becomes as the brief respite of his rage is once again replaced with disappointment. “-Tt- Ravi.”

“Yes my Lord?”

“How do you think it looks?” The child inquires nervously in anticipation.

Curiously the old man moves closer to the canvas to get a better look at the painting. “I think it looks beautiful my Lord Damian, but may I have permission to speak out of turn?” Damian lifts a brow at this line of questioning and frowns dishearteningly before waving a hand in approval. “I say this with no ill intent; I do believe that you’re dissatisfied with the subject of the art itself rather than the quality of the painting. If anything troubles you please know that I am always here to lend an ear.”

His eyes widen at the implication and immediately voices his displacement. “Are you implying I am not satisfied being the heir to the family name! That I am not happy on the island! I’ll have you know that I am more than fulfilled with my life and even if I was not I have visited countless exotic lands that more than make up for it! Think before you talk next time  _ servant _ !”

“My apologies, my Lord. It shan’t happen again.” Ravi bows deeply before stepping back and allowing Damian to continue his work.

But he never got to finish as the year of blood was underway and Ravi kept his word. The poor man never spoke out of turn ever again. He also never got to see another one of Damian’s masterpieces again, for the Son of the Demon took his sight away from the kind man. The man who worshiped the ground he walked on.

Colors swirl around him and he’s dragging the collar of a tiny scarlet creature through the training grounds as the poor thing could only let himself be ragged dolled helplessly. “Aaaarrrggghh! You stupid creature! You are supposed to be completely obedient to me! You are my Goliath and yet all you know how to do is stare at me with those comically pitiful eyes of yours!” The fluffy baby dragon bat continues to blink up at him innocently infuriating him to no end. It flaps its tiny wings and flies up to Damian’s face to lick his nose once again causing the boy to smack his own forehead in frustration. “You fool! Do you not realize what happens to innocent beings in my care!? You must grow a thirst for blood else something terrible will happen to you!”

“Grandfather made you the leader of the Demon’s Fist countless of our own footsoldiers, yet a tiny pathetic beast is what has you at your wit’s end?” A droll high voice mocks from the border of the field.

Damian sneers at the voice and sharply turns around to meet the one-eyed little girl. “Hold your tongue, Mara. I am the rightful heir here- what have you done to your hair?”

Clearly not expecting that to be her cousin’s answer she steps back a bit baffled before brushing the newly red streak away from her face. “It’s none of your business what I do to myself! I am here to bask in your failure!”

“Are you sure you’re not here for a comb?” The taller child asks, reaching in his pocket and pulling out Goliath’s grooming rake. “Because it not only looks like you failed to properly dye your hair but that you also attempted to do an Einstein inspired style.” 

“AAAAAAAARRRRRRGGGGHHHH, I HATE YOU!” The little girl screams stomping away and leaving Damian to his own devices once again.

“She is so annoying Goliath.” He hisses as he watched his cousin’s retreating form. “I do hope other peers in the outside world are less taxing than her. Do you not agree?”

Goliath makes a pleasant growl that Damian will translate as agreement and picks his companion up from the ground and into his arms. “At least you’re learning something. Now come, my Goliath, I shall now train you to crave the flesh of my enemies.” 

His world shifts from the muted browns of his family’s training grounds to the cold black and blues of his father’s lair as he drops the head of his enemy into his lap. This should surely earn his favor now; Except it doesn’t. Instead of the content smile his mother would have given him he is met with the troubled expression of the Batman.

“WHAT HAVE YOU DONE!” The armored man explodes as his ward, the current Robin, covers his mouth in horror at the lifeless face.

“Were you not looking for this criminal father?” He asks through gritted teeth. “I have only done what was right and have taken care of the problem so that you wouldn’t have to! Are you not pleased with me?” Damian begins to feel himself panic, thinking that he has done it wrong. “Did you need his entire body? Is that it?! Do you have something against the blade? I can do better! If you are so keen on using those modified throwing knives I shall master them in no time!”

The man’s eyes immediately soften from behind his cowl and he takes the bloodied skull off of his lap. Damian sees the mess he has made and immediately tries to rectify the situation. “I’m sorry, I didn’t drain it properly. You are mad I have made a mess of your clothes. My foolishness has caused you unneeded inconvenience.” 

The ten-year-old moves to pick the head up but the man just pulls him tightly against himself and runs his gloves hand through his hair. “I’m so sorry. You should have never been left there even for a moment.”

It’s even worse than when that alien child tried to suffocate him in his arms two days ago. Damian’s skin crawls from the contact. It’s nothing like his mother touches however sparse they are. His mind goes back to the plane where his mother lovingly held his hand for the first time in his life. It was so warm and reassuring. The way his father is holding him is nothing like that because all he feels is confused and scared. He hates this feeling and hates this gesture. Is this a new form of punishment?

“What are you doing, Father?”

“I’m hugging you.” He answers as Drake runs up the stairs calling for the eldest of Father’s charges.

The boy settles for a bit and feels out whatever this hug is before quietly proclaiming, “I don’t like it.”

And then he’s outside. He’s on the bleachers on their school during recess still in one of those infuriatingly terrible hugs that he so hates with the passion of a million burning suns, but he cannot say anything as to upset the boy further. Instead of shoving the child off and kicking his invulnerable head in Damian chooses to take a deep breath and politely asks the boy to get off him; just like he learned on that terrible puppet show Grayson keeps forcing him to watch. 

“Jonathan,” He begins as calmly as he can muster in this hellish environment. “Can you please let go of me?”

“Huh?” The boy in question stupidly says as he realizes what he’s doing and rather violently shoves himself off of Damian. “S-sorry! I didn’t know-- I mean I did know but I didn’t, I was asleep-!”

The young assassin quickly puts his palm to the glasses-wearing child’s mouth to shut him up and rubs the sides of his temple with his free hand. “Why do you insist on hugging me? It’s completely absurd and serves no purpose.”

Jon shoves the handoff of his face revealing a charcoal print on his face and pouts. “No one has explained hugs to you? Is that why you don’t like them?”

The boy rolls his emerald eyes at the ridiculous question and replies, “I know what a hug is and you have indicated on multiple occasions that they are supposed to make me feel better but they do not.”

“Hugs make me feel better.”

“I know they do.”

“And my family likes hugs and all my friends are okay with hugs-”

“What friends? I’m the only friend you have and you know I despise hugs.” Damian cruelly interrupts again as he returns to his charcoal sketch. 

Blue eyes dim at the statement and before the older child could rectify it Jon reverts back to his normal bright smile while grabbing his blackened hand gently. “What about this?”

The boy would never admit it but he flinches. He doesn’t think Jonathan noticed but the fact that he did at all is utterly mortifying to Damian, He stares down at their intertwined fingers doing his best to keep a neutral expression before staring back into that stupidly happy face. “Why are you holding my hand?”

“You always hold my hand so I just- I thought-... Sorry.” The young child says as the entire face down to his neck turns an impressive shade of red. It’s actually quite humorous to Damian as he now reminds him of his precious Goliath. “I shouldn’t have assumed. You know what they say about assuming.”

“What do they say?”

“... Actually I don’t know. People just tell me that but they never tell me what it means. It’s weird.” Jonathan admits growing redder. 

“I concur, that is quite strange.” Damian agrees, focusing on his art rather than the growing awkwardness between them. “Do I really hold your hand that often?”

“I- I mean, Kinda? You sometimes grab my hand to do something and then you don’t really let go for a while, so I thought maybe you’re more comfortable that way but it was probably a coincidence so you can just ignore it I’m sorry it won’t happen again. Actually, it might because I don’t wanna lie and I already said I would stop with all the hugs. At least I think I said that before but if I didn’t then I’ll stop now and I’ll stop the hand-holding too. Please don’t be mad at me I really really didn’t mean anything by it and I’m just trying to be nice--”

Huh, now that he thinks about it he does recall a few instances of that happening. Well if that’s the case… “Jonathan, I don’t care.”

The boy stops his rambling and gawks at him with wide eyes. “You- I--What?”

“Honestly I don’t care. You’re too naive to mean anything malicious by it and I’d rather do this,” He demonstrates by grasping at Jonathan’s hand casually. “Then be stuck in one of those constricting hugs of yours.”

Jonathan doesn’t even say anything in acknowledgment as he just stressfully clutches Damian’s unoccupied hand like his life depended on it. He makes a note to himself that he’ll have to deal with this unforeseen coping mechanism somehow in the near future. It clearly isn’t doing anything good for Jonathan to go from an entire town to act as his external support structure to only Damian. It also doesn’t help that he purposefully threatens anyone that tries to befriend the child but they really don’t need new distractions. He believes that the younger boy, who is already kind of clingy, is desperately trying to make up for the absence of his previous life. 

That or Jonathan is just weird. Both points are extremely valid in Damian’s opinion. For now, having to take care of the half-Kryptonian’s insecurities isn’t too taxing and once he trains him to be more useful they can work on that fragile mind of his. It’s not like they won’t have time for it in the future.

“DID YOU SEE THAT LADIES AND GENTLEMEN?! WHAT A SAVAGE TAKEDOWN! WILL SUPERBOY EVER BE ABLE TO RECOVER FROM THIS!?” A loud feminine voice screams in his ears as he is suddenly surrounded by a deafening crowd screaming their heads off. 

“Wha…” Damian blurts out as his vision slowly focuses the colors around him into crystal clear images. “Where… Am I?”

In front of him, just below his line of vision is a mop of messy black hair that appears to be swaying. The figure notices his newly formed consciousness and lets out an incredibly strained. “H-hey da-Dami, I hear you’re awake!”

“Names.” He commands out of habit registering the blade in his hand. When did he get his sword back?

Superboy chuckles and somehow the masked child can feel the laughter in his fingers which is extremely disturbing. “S-Sorry. I-- we’re going to be  _ fine _ . Can you do me a favor?”

“Sure.” He answers confusingly as the fog in his mind begins to clear even more. 

“Don’t look at me.”

Oh, well now he god damn has to. Immediately his eyes traverse to where Superboy is located and his memories immediately flow back into his head as he recalls the last thing he remembers before passing out. The blood, Jonathan was killed, he killed, Roulette! He has to get out of here and find Jonatha-

But Jon’s right in front of him, right? He’s alive?

That’s when he finally sees it. Near the hilt of his new green blade was none other than an impaled Jonathan Samuel Kent with his neck directly through it. In alarm, he drops the handle but the sword is still embedded into the seven-year-old’s throat. He jumps away holding back a scream as he sees his partner injured but still standing. In Jonathan’s hand right where his ear used to be was a metal earpiece while the other hand covers his eyes.

“I don’t feel you anymore- wait, did you look? Dang it Da- I mean Robin, I gave you one job.” The boy says casually as he takes his hand off his face to reveal a hideous gash across his eyes that blind him and reveals the insides of his retinas. “I’m fine!”

“D-Did I-”

“You did,” Jon admits with a grin. “But it’s not your fault.” Slowly he uses both of his hands to pull the kryptonite katana out of his body with a horrifyingly wet cry in agony. He drops to the ground due to slashed knees and dropping everything in his hands to hold his agonizingly painful neck wound. Damian scrambles forward and catches him in his arms once again covering himself in his companion’s blood. 

“No! No please no!” 

“It-it hurts-” The younger boy whimpers weakly but it is kept quiet by Damian wrapping his hands around his throat to stop the bleeding. 

“D-don’t talk, please. You’re going to be fine. You’re going to be fine. This is my fault, THIS IS ALL MY FAULT!” He screams finally breaking down as he presses his forehead on Jonathan’s. “AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHH! I’m sorry, I’m so sorry! You can’t die, please don’t die! You’re the only friend I have, please don’t.”

“D-dami I’m going to be fi-” Jonathan begins to say but his own coughs interrupt him this time before he could say anything else. 

“IT LOOKS LIKE SUPERBOY IS DOWN FOR THE COUNT FOLKS!”

“I don’t deserve to be Robin…” Damian sobs holding his friend closer. 

“OUR WINNER IS ROBIN!”

Green eyes widen behind his mask at the words and he looks for the source of the sound to see that horrible witch face proceed above their glass cage. He glares at her and shouts, “WHAT ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT?!”

He doesn’t hear anything other than the bloodthirsty cries of the audience for a few seconds when a voice from the device Jon dropped speaks up. He can’t hear what it’s saying and holds it close to his head but not anywhere near his brain to listen. “Looks like someone is awake.”

“What is this sham!” Damian growls clearly not in the mood for games or pleasantries.

“A metahuman underground fighting ring and trafficking ring. I thought it was pretty obvious.” She answers as if she wasn't some horrible criminal. “Are you worried about your little friend?”

“Obviously.”

“We have several doctors on standby for our winners, buuuu-”

“Don’t fuck with me!” He growls nearly crushing the device in his hands. “I know you were going to sell him and you expect me to believe you!”

“Oh come on now. We both know I’m not above murder.”

He remembers. He remembers clearly.

“I’m kidding. I’m definitely going to sell him but I doubt the people I’m going to sell him to care about his condition. Then again he’s made me so much money thanks to his performance tonight.” She elaborates thoughtfully. “Mmmm… Choices, choices…”

“HEAL HIM!”

“Okay, but then I wouldn’t have a prize for tonight’s auction.”

“Sell me! I don’t care, just save him!” He demands furiously.

“R-Roo-Robin, st-stop!” Jonathan gasps out. “W-whaaa-”

“Okay then. I’ll send someone over but no funny business like last time or else I’ll have to activate that collar on your little buddy.” She agrees before the call cuts off.

Immediately Damian throws the device to the other side of the dome and presses his lips close to Jonathan’s ear. “Superboy, listen to me carefully. I’m going to buy you some time to get out. We are currently in warehouse 87 of pier 5 in Gotham Harbor.”

“H-how-”

“Don’t waste your energy speaking. I memorized the common architecture of each important building in Gotham; villains aren’t that creative when it comes to variation of liars.” He explains as he hears a lift raising to their current location. “There are three floors, two main elevators, and one emergency staircase on the west wings. If they have any sense then it’ll be heavily guarded but on the east wing, there is an old secret dumbwaiter lift behind an extremely inaccurate and outdated safety sign. It will lead directly to the first floor. You can use that to sneak out of there.”

“Why-”

“Alan Wayne was a paranoid lunatic, that’s why! Use the hatch to escape and find a payphone that still works to call the police; it’s free.”

“I-but what about you?” Jonathan whispers with a scratchy voice and he is surprised and grateful the boy can even form words.

Damian glances down at his fatally wounded comrade solemnly and tenderly brushes some of the loose strands of hair out of the boy’s blinded and scarred face. He sees several henchmen waiting for him and while Damian could most likely take them down right now it wouldn’t be beneficial in the long run; especially trapped in a container surrounded by thousands of people. With one last glance to his friend he sets him down on the floor and allows himself to be taken.

“Pink.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SO ALL THAT JUST HAPPENED! This was a clusterfuck of a chapter and I'm sorry but I also don't regret a fucking thing!
> 
> Should I enter a Damian suffering tag? Jk, it's Damian; he's always suffering. I worked extra hard not to have too many typos but I know I suck at finding all of them. I'm apparently a writer, not an editor. There are about two to three chapters left of this arc so afterwards we'll be back to your regularly scheduled floof... for the most part.
> 
> Next chapter: Jonathan goes to get help.


	16. Purely Inhuman

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jonathan works on his escape and plan to save his only friend, but at what cost?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> YO, THERE ARE A NEW WARNING THAT IS SPECIFICALLY FOR THIS CHAPTER AND THIS CHAPTER ONLY. SPECIFICALLY THE GORE ONE. YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED. Other warnings you should heed: body horror, child abuse, and Jonathan Kent suffering. 
> 
> Why did I do this? Well besides me being a sick fuck I'll explain the rest at the end once you get to the end.
> 
> As always I would like to thank everyone for reading and hope you'll all continue reading after this.

Jonathan Samuel Kent is not a human being. He is a horrific combination of two species that scientifically cannot breed together no matter how similar they are. To be half-human is to not be human at all because there is no such thing as a human who cannot do what many believe is essential for humanity. Jonathan cannot feel pain through normal means and he does not fear the eventuality of his death. Even before he discovered how inhuman he really is, death was not something that scared him because he couldn’t comprehend the concept. 

The boy never once had to confront the aspect of his own mortality nor has he ever had to give any thought about the life of others. How could Jonathan learn to fear death when everyone he’s ever cared about was alive and well? All he knows is how precious his gift of life truly is; His life is so rare and one of a kind. There can literally be no one else like him because his conception was a pure act of love and desire. A wish his parents yearned for so that they may share his life with the world.

Jon is made of love and kindness but that doesn’t make him human. To be human is to be part of the collective species who are by their very nature, fragile. Humans should not have the life he is living because they wouldn’t be able to keep the benevolence that keeps them that way. A human being would burn themselves with a flame and know full well that they should not go near it to avoid injury. Jonathan isn’t like that at all. Jonathan, when he had the mercy of pain, would just try again, and again, and again, expecting it to not hurt again. 

Then his invincibility kicked in. No more did he have the weight of pain holding him back from his rather silly antics nor did his family have to worry about Jonathan accidentally hurting himself again. His mother was especially grateful for the surplus of medical supplies they don’t have to buy anymore. Jonathan thought that his superpowers kicking in was going to be the beginning of something great, but he couldn’t have been more wrong. 

It was the beginning of his inhumanity as he gradually begins to realize that he has no one to relate to. The kickstart of his powers set off a chain of events he couldn’t possibly predict as while it had allowed him to survive his first encounter with his future best friend it also pushed him into a life of isolation. No more could he look at the world and believe it was a good place or understand why someone got hurt doing something that didn’t affect him anymore. 

When something was finally able to cause him harm, true physical anguish, there was a chance that Jonathan would be able to gain back some of that humanity he lost such a short time ago. It might have given him that reality check to understand that he might still be human and should do his best to take care of himself as his life was fleeting. Maybe the experience would cause him to quit his path to becoming a superhero. It’s a dangerous career that normal humans have to take special precautions to survive and even then they’ll still get hurt, so what chance does Jon have? Maybe that would have been the case if it wasn’t for two tiny little details: Jonathan Samuel Kent is not a quitter and…

He now has a healing factor.

He feels his body being lifted in a stranger’s arms after they took Damian away from him for what he thinks is the second time. At the same time echoing cracks reverberate off the solid concrete walls of the lift as his knees snap back into proper position. As his nerves and vessels fuse together his tendons slowly meld into place with a wet squelch. Jon can vaguely feel his left leg twist wildly as it adjusts itself properly due to him falling on it wrong when he hits the ground. The henchman carrying him makes a horrific gagging noise from his throat as he holds Jon away from his body. Jon doesn’t blame the man as he has to assume that it must be gross to watch a body mend itself. 

The seven-year-old can’t vouch for the level of gross it must be to watch himself as his eyes have yet to be fixed. That is soon corrected as a warm watery liquid begins draining his eye sockets and flooding his face before leaving a revolting concoction of blood and loose chunks of his organ all over the floor. This sight must’ve been extra sickening as Jonathan can hear the guard almost vomit at the sight. Once his face is cleaned of all debris the liquid fills his deflated sclera and returns them to their previous round shape. Gradually his vision comes back to him as the pupils of his eyes reform before growing out the bright sky blue of his iris. His sight is still rather blurry but it lessens over time as he’s being transferred to what he thinks is a medical bay. 

Magnets on his arms firmly attach him to the metal headboard of the bed frame ensuring he wouldn’t be able to escape. Jonathan helplessly watches Roulette's henchman rush out of the room covering his mouth most likely to hurl from the experience of watching Jon’s healing process. Unfortunately for Jon, the experience isn’t over as his limp neck straightens with a loud snap before the cartilage fuses together finally allowing the boy to take in a deep breath of air. The wound right above his collar is sealed shut as it immediately sets, making sure to leave no scar that Jon was even injured in the first place. 

The experience wasn’t fun in the slightest. It was painful and excruciatingly long. It was nothing like Superman’s healing as he read articles about his father's rare wounds instantly coming together in mere seconds. Jonathan’s ordeal was far from instant as it was the longest thirty minutes of his life and he would have screamed in agony if it wasn’t for his injured trachea being the last thing to repair itself. Jon scans the area with his newly restored vision to find that he was in one of those cheap beds he sees in school nursing offices. 

Around him were several empty beds positioned a few feet apart from each other. Next to each bed was a small red button just above them. It would be easy to reach if his wrists weren’t bound to the head of the frame. Near the back corner of the chamber, he spots a small vent but it looked sealed shut; much more secure than the one in the Wayne manor playroom. There were no windows and there was only a steel door blocking Jon from escaping. 

“Superboy?”

Oh, Jon recognizes that voice! “Hey, Colin!” The boy greets cheerfully whipping his head to his left towards the back of the room to find the older redhead in the same predicament as himself. 

“What are you doing here?” He asks looking at Jonathan in a confusing manner. 

“I’m planning my escape!”

Colin’s perplexed expression grows stronger at the younger boy’s casual admission and asks, “... and how are you going to do that?”

“I’m working on it. I already know how to get out of the building so all I have to do is get out of here and get help!” Jon states with a serious pout upon his face. “Also I have to find my friend again because he’s a dumb butt who sacrificed himself for me when he really didn’t have to.”

“Uh… You wanna talk about it, I’ll listen.”

Jon thinks for a moment before answering, “Yes.”

Colin awkwardly blinks at the now silent boy for a couple of moments before attempting to continue the stagnate conversation. “Um okay? So you wanna start from the beginning? It’s only been, like, two hours since I last saw you.”

“Two hours? Wow, it sure feels like a lot shorter than that.” He comments astounded by his own inaccurate perception of time. “Well, anyway, my friend Robin was being really weird and attacked me because apparently he was the winner of whatever we were doing. I even used his name which he hates and he didn’t once tell me off about it. That’s when I knew he was being mind-controlled.”

“Mind-controlled?”

“Yep. I thought talking to him about the power of friendship would snap him out of it cause it works in every cartoon I’ve ever watched. I started going off about how we’re friends and shouldn’t be fighting each other. I’m actually pretty impressed I was able to come up with a whole speech on the spot.” Jon boasts appearing extremely proud of himself as he recalls his actions. 

“Wow, so then he broke out of it?”

“No, he tried to stab me. His sword had kryptonite on it.” He admits dejectedly.

“Oh.” Well, now Colin feels bad for asking. 

“It’s okay, I dodged it. My feelings were pretty hurt though. Cartoons lied to me, so that’s just one more thing in my life I can’t trust.” Jon states with a pitiful frown before perking up and continuing his story with a strained pleasant laugh. “Talking didn’t work so I just started running away but I keep forgetting Robin is kind of a ninja so that didn’t work either.”

“A ninja?”

Blue eyes roll at the inquisition as if the fact he’s friends with a ninja is common knowledge. “Ninja, assassin, prince, they’re all the same. Either way, he was definitely trying to kill me. After trying to run away I saw a shiny thing in his ear that I know for a fact wasn’t in his ear when I last saw him. It was clearly the mind-control thingy. Then I tried holding him down so I could take it out, but he’s stronger than me and I don’t have super strength. The only thing that did was make him cut my eyes.”

“Ouch.” Colin winces trying to imagine the pain.

“There were many ouchies. I tried running away again but then I think he cut off my legs because I couldn’t feel them. I mean they were still attached to my body but I think that’s because he didn’t cut off all the way through my costume.”

“... Superboy, how are you alive?”

“I’m getting to that.” The child insists, getting back to his explanation. “Anyways I thought was totally gonna die but I couldn’t die before saving my friend so when I felt the sword touch my neck I decided to just stab myself and then pull myself up through the blade until I reached his face.”

“You… Holy fuck.”

Jon scowls at the word and chides his roommate. “That’s a bad word.”

“That is the least of the problems right now! Why did you do that!?” The redhead shouts back indignantly with wide eyes as he looks over Jonathan’s physical state.

“Duh, so I could get to Robin’s head and take out the evil mind-control thingy! It’s not like I could walk to him or see where he was!” Jon answers nonchalantly not seeing the issue. 

“And you thought stabbing yourself in the neck was a good idea!?”

He shrugs. “I don’t think it was a good idea but he was gonna stab me anyways so I had nothing to lose. It worked in the end so everything is fine. I saved him and then he was taken away after I pulled the sword outta my throat. It really hurt.”

“Yeah, no shit! YOU STABBED YOURSELF!”

“On the bright side, I’m better now.” Jon defends weakly knowing that probably wasn’t a good enough argument. 

“AND HOW DID THAT HAPPEN!?”

“... I think I have super healing.” Jonathan answers sounding just as confused as his listener. 

Colin’s jaw drops as he frantically cries, “You didn’t know that before stabbing yourself?!”

“Nope! I was more scared of Dami becoming a soulless killing machine than dying.” The younger boy explains.

“Wait, so Robin’s name is Dami?”

Jon’s eyes go wide realizing his mistake and sits up to the best of his ability on the mattress with a pleading expression on his face as he begs Colin to forget this transgression. “Oops! Please don’t tell anyone! I’m supposed to keep that a secret and I’m really bad at it!”

The older boy sighs. “I will. Besides, it’s not like I can tell anyone.”

“You might once I break us outta here!” Jon says happily trying to move his legs to kick the button next to his bed. “I think this thing will release the cuff on our beds so all we have to do is press it and escape through the vents!”

“And how will we do that?” Colin questions feeling a bit equated at trying to follow this strange child’s logic. “This isn’t some spy movie that would have vents that lead everywhere. I don’t even think they could support our weight.”

“They can. Trust me, I am an expert vent crawler!” Jonathan announces pridefully still trying to use his boot to hit the switch. “I crawled through a vent once and I turned out fine!”

“I beg to differ but whatever makes you feel better.” The male mutters watching Jon struggle. “That’s not gonna work. The only way any of use are going to press any of these buttons is if we break off these cuffs. I’d used my powers but the new cuffs they put on my wrists won’t grow with my body and would just cut off my arms if I’d tried.”

Jon opens his mouth to reply when he is suddenly hit with a flash of inspiration. He’s extremely lucky he discovered his new superpower during the fight he had with a mind-controlled Damian because that means he has even less to fear. He kicks his legs quietly against the mattress to make sure his limb didn’t have any unknown defect and sees that it’s completely fine. Then Jon takes in a deep breath as he scoots back until the back of his head hits the wall behind him and lifts himself up high enough to get his feet underneath him. It’s not easy but it’s going to be a heck of a lot easier than his next action. 

He then remembers how he once read that the only thing other than kryptonite to hurt a super is another super. Luckily for Jonathan, he decided to call himself Superboy because he is a super. With another bated breath, he slowly stands with his arms held taunt behind his back and uses his teeth to pull his right sleeve all the way up to his shoulder. 

Jon stares at his pristine unmarred skin and for a brief moment he questions whether or not there was another way to set himself free of these trappings; If what he was about to do was too much. He wonders if he was about to cross some invisible line he didn’t know about. Maybe his and Dami’s family were going to come in and save them any second now. Maybe the grossed out goon will come back inside and take Jonathan somewhere else. Maybe a miracle from God will spare him.

Even if that were the case he couldn’t just sit around and wait for rescue. Jonathan is not a damsel in distress that waits for their knight in shining armor. The boy is supposed to be the knight in this scenario who is going to rescue a really grumpy prince. And once he rescues the both of them he’s going to revoke code pink so that Damian will never use it on him again! He looks around the room one last time for another way out then shakes his head when there was none to be found. 

Confused, Colin watches Jonathan examine his arm before his pale eyes widen in horror as he watches the child tear a huge chunk of flesh from his upper arm with his teeth. Immediately the older boy looks away and throws up in the opposite direction. As the contents of Colin’s stomach empty onto the side of his bed and spill on the cold ground below he can hear the insane child continue to furiously chew and spit out parts of his own limb with a violent bloody fervor like nothing he’s ever seen or heard before. 

“What the fuck is wrong with you!?” Colin chokes out between hurling as he dares to look back and-- yep, still disturbing nightmare fuel! He instantly regrets his decision as he briefly watches Jon’s small baby teeth naws into the exposed humerus bone of his arm. “You’re insane!”

The small colorfully dressed child doesn’t bother to respond as he’s using all of his energy to ignore his nature screaming at him to stop the inhuman mutilation of his own body as he desperately cracks his teeth into his bone. He somehow manages to find the jaw strength to snap through the bone and continues to brutally continue his assault. The older boy in the room is forced to look away from the horrifying scene and proceeds to throw up. 

People have called Jon many things: innocent, stubborn, good, simple, and recently insane. Jon begs to differ on that last one because he’s not insane; he’s desperate. What many people don’t know about him is that he would go to literally any lengths to save the people he loves. He would do anything for his family and friends, but no one has ever pushed him far enough to see what that entails. Forcing him into a deathmatch and taking away his companion from him twice is certainly enough to push him off the edge.

The pain is unbearable as he fights against his body’s instinct to stop his chewing, but Jon doesn’t quit. He doesn’t even register the taste of his own hot blood in his mouth or the agony of mutilating his bones as his baby teeth continue their assault. Heck, he doesn’t even think he can feel pain after a certain point because he cut off all his nerves. Jonathan is only seven and already he lost his grasp on the reality of the situation as he tears off his own flesh just to satisfy his goal. 

With a flourish, he tears off the last of his skin just as the guard from earlier walks back in with a pale complexion. He takes one good look at Jonathan’s bloody form with muscle dangling from his lips and promptly retreats with a slam of the door and a terrifying shriek followed by the sound of violent vomiting. “Well, that’s just rude.” Jon thinks as he spits the piece of himself onto the floor.

He unceremoniously slips off the bed and twists his other arm to allow him to stand up properly. He can’t push the button with his hands seeing as they’re still bound to the metal frame so instead, he boops it with his forehead. “Boop!” He says as he immediately feels his wrist being released from its confines. His right arm casually flops onto the bed and Jon happily picks it and holds it to the nub where it used to sit making sure that it’s being held in the correct position. 

Jon merrily skips next to Colin’s bed, where the other is still completely sickened and disturbed, and boops his head to the button next to the boy’s bed. The first thing the older boy does is hold his gut as the contents of his empty stomach attempt to evacuate his body. “Oops. I probably should have told you I was gonna do that.” Jon cringes watching the suffering boy. “Anyways, my plan worked and now we’re free!”

“You fucking bit off your own arm!”

“It’ll heal! Look, it’s already starting to fuse back!” The boy describes letting go of his arm and letting it dangle from him before holding it back together. “I mean it’s not completely healed yet but it’s getting there!”

“Jesus FUCK! Superboy who taught you to do that cause they need to be arrested! What the FUCK!” Colin screams as he heaves in a deep breath to calm himself down to no avail.

“I didn’t know you were such a potty mouth, Colin. Those are a lot of bad words.”

“THAT IS NOT THE PROBLEM!”

Jon nods in agreement as he pulls his sleeve down and walks over to the vent at the other side of the room. “You’re right, we need to focus on getting out of here. Now how do we get up there because I didn’t think I’d make it this far.”

Slowly Colin gets up from his bed and moves up to Jon apprehensive before backing away from the blood-stained child. “Okay, so I am stuck in a horrible illegal fight ring that also sells people and my only hope of escape is a deranged Kryptonian toddler who tears off his own freaking arm just to save the boy he has a crush on. What the fuck has become of my life?” The kid mumbles covering his face with his hands while shaking his head.

“Hey, I don’t have a crush! Crushes are gross and for girls!” Jon whines puffing his cheeks indignantly. 

“That’s sexist as heck but whatever makes you feel better.” He replies tiredly as he glances at Jonathan once again and huffs. “Lemme see your cape.”

Without hesitation, Jon picks up the end of his bloody cape and hands it to Colin. The skinny redhead drops it in favor of pinching the ends closest to Jonathan’s neck and ripping the fabric off his onesie. The boy proceeds to tear the fabric into strips to produce a makeshift rope then takes the end of it to vigorously clean the younger child’s face off. Jonathan squirms under the harsh but gentle touch as the red from the ichor is replaced by the pink of Jonathan’s slightly irritated skin. 

“You are way too young to have blood on your hands let alone blood on your face,” Colin mourns as he begins whipping off Jon’s hands. 

Confused by the statement Jon asks, “Then how old do I have to be?”

“That’s not what I meant.” He grunts as he finishes his work. “No one should but it’s worse when it’s a little kid.”

“I don’t get it.”

Colin sighs and looks down sadly at Jonathan before rubbing his hair. “When we get out of this I’ll explain but for now you need to get on your hands and knees. I’ll step on your back then take off the vent door and once I’m up there I’ll pull you up with this rope.”

Jon frowns at this plan looking over Colin with a scrutinizing eye. “But I’m lighter. Why don’t you just lift me up there or move a bed to stand on?”

“The beds are obviously bolted to the ground and you can only use one arm. Do you really think you could lift me up with one arm and no strength?” The older boy scoffs pointing to the still loose limb that’s barely attached to Jonathan’s arm.

The younger boy flops his right arm just above his elbow and feels around it to find that it’s not quite done repairing itself. “... Good point.” 

With that said Jonathan quickly situates himself on the floor to the best of his ability as Colin cautiously steps onto his back and extends his arms to reach the vent. He promptly grows his thumb and forefingers to a more muscular size and plucks off the heavy bolts of the bottom of the metal grate and swiftly hops up to pull himself up over the ledge and into the vent where he then hauls Jonathan up with the substitute rope. 

As soon as Jonathan is inside the vent a familiar beeping noise rings throughout the vent from both of their collars causing Colin to immediately curl up in pain. Jon feels a slightly tingly sensation around his neck but other than that he feels fine. Thinking on his feet, or shins in a more literal sense, he rips off some of the shiny stretchy material from inside his waistband and shoves it between the thinner boy’s neck and the neckband. He doesn’t wait to see if what he did worked or not as he hears the door open and guards burst in. Jon works fast to push the huddled up boy along the inside of the narrow air duct until they’re both far enough not to be easily seen in the darkness. 

“Colin, you okay?” Jon whispers seeing his companion slowly regaining a steady breath.

The boy nods weakly as he gets into a crawling position and does his best to move on his own without Jonathan’s help. “Y-yeah…” He pants as he looks over his shoulder back at the other. “H-how did you know that would work.”

“Uuuuuuuhhhhhh-”

“You didn’t, did you?” Colin sighs feeling as though the action is going to become a habit the longer he stays with Superboy. 

Jon sheepishly avoids direct eye contact and focuses on traversing their new environment. “I saw it on a Looney Tunes commercial once but it had to do with outlets and stuff and not with my waistband. All I learned was rubbery stuff and electricity don’t go together, so I guess cartoons don’t always lie! That means I can trust cartoons again!”

“How do you do that?”

“Do wha?” The boy questions curiously as they turn a corner. “Oh, hey by the way we need to head east." 

Colin scrunches his face in frustration and tries to rattle his mind around the command. “East? How am I supposed to know where east is? I don’t think I could find it if you gave me a compass.”

“I dunno how! Dami- I mean Robin just said that there was a really stupid safety sign and behind it was a dumbwaiter lift. I dunno what that is but I know a lift is an elevator.” Jon remarks as he closely follows the older boy who seems to know where he’s going.

“I know what a dumbwaiter lift is and I think I know the sign you’re talking about.”

“So are you going to tell me what you meant by, ‘How do you do that?’” The younger boy presses. 

Colin links as he regains his previous train of thought and elaborates on his words. “Huh, oh yeah. I mean how do you do the insane stuff you do and somehow still manage to be so… innocent.” 

Jon tilts his head at the word feeling he doesn’t truly understand what that means. “Innocent?”

“Like… How are you not a completely bitter wreck? How do you still stay so positive? It’s almost inhuman how you can act like you didn’t just take stab wounds or viciously bite off your own arm.” The older boy elaborates turning another corner.

“Ah, I get it. That’s easy; I’m not human!” Jon pronounces easily with an unsettling smile. “Can’t be inhuman if you were never human to begin with!”

Colin nearly stops in his tracks but holds himself back, instead opting to ask, “Is that a Kryptonian thing?”

“Nope. Dam- Robin. Robin is always telling me how I shouldn’t let human issues affect me because I’m not human.” Jon reveals. 

“That’s… That’s actually awful. He sounds awful.” The redhead expresses with a solemnly soft tone. “Besides the weird stuff you do you seem pretty human to me and your friend shouldn’t be putting those weird ideas into your head. I think that’s how serial killers are made.” 

“Look, I know Robin isn’t a good person but I know for a fact he doesn't want anything bad to happen to me. You don’t know him like I do!” Jon accuses puffing his cheeks heatedly. 

Colin sighs and defends himself. “You’re right, I don’t but you sound like you have some heavily tinted rose-colored glasses for him.”

“What does that mean?” The young boy asks due to never hearing the phrase before. 

“It means you’re so focused on how you feel about him you ignore red flags.” The older boy explains as they turn another corner. “But hey, I barely know the guy so maybe I’m wrong.” He shrugs waiting for Jon to catch up to him. “I’m not trying to imply that this Dami guy shouldn’t be your friend but saying stuff like that is really messed up. Especially if he makes you think the crazy stuff I’ve seen you do is okay.”

Jonathan pouts harder and does his best to defend his friend and by extension himself. “It is but he does have a good point sometimes and I don’t always agree with him. He’s a total Butt sometimes and he does a lot of terrible things like lie, steal, break people’s legs, yell at me, manipulate me, isolate me from people who want to be my friends thinking I don’t notice but I do, brushes off my ideas like I’m stupid, not take me seriously-”

“If you’re trying to win me over on this guy it’s not working.” Colin sighs as the two continue moving.

“He tried to stab me in the neck when we first met before either of use knew I was indestructible, hit me when he gets frustrated, use words he knows I don’t understand to make me feel dumb, hide random weapons in my room, made me cry, boss me around all the time-”

“Christ Superboy how long is this list going to be?”

“He also tore up my Robin plushie that one time and said he would pay me back but then he didn’t, gets angry over weird things, expects me to learn languages within a day of discovering they exist, lord his superiority over me which honestly means nothing to me, give me horrible trust issue, makes me vomit on occasion when I eat foods he didn’t approve of (But sometimes that’s okay cause I was once poisoned by a British guy), and this whole adventure was his idea-”

“He brought you here?!” He almost shrieks before remembering where they were and settles on a good old fashion whisper-scream. 

“It’s complicated. But my point is that he’s still my friend and nothing he’ll do can change that.” Jon finishes feeling as though he somehow won an imaginary argument he was having with Colin.

“Superboy you have just literally proven my point about the rose-colored glasses thing.” The other boy clearly points out seeing that Jonathan has only pointed out negative things.

“Whatever.” Jon huffs. “I’ve only known him for about two months and he’s getting better!”

“You’re doing all this crazy crap for a guy you only knew for two months?” Colin gasps whipping his head around at the small child only to see him continue to radiate a blindingly positive attitude in the rusty dusty tunnels. “Geez, maybe you were already a bit crazy before you met him.”

“Should I be offended by that?” Jon questions, genuinely unsure how to take that statement. 

Colin shrugs as he looks back in front of him. “Kinda?”

The two continue to traverse through the maze-like corridors of the ventilation system occasionally freezing when the sound of guards scouring the area for them is heard. Jonathan sometimes tries to take a peek out one of the vent grilles to get a good grasp of where he is but Colin immediately pulls him along so they don’t get spotted. This happens several times before they end up where Jon thinks they need to be. 

Both kids can see the extremely inaccurate aged safety sign from their place in the vents above the ceiling. Jon might only have a beginner’s second-grade reading level, which means he doesn’t understand words with more than three syllables, but even he knows that the sign below is definitely wrong. He can’t read words but he can see pictures and a stick figure walking under a forklift with a green checkmark next to it is not the correct way to do anything.

Unfortunately, there were two henchmen taking a smoke break to it and the two had no choice than to wait it out. Colin pulled the front of his shirt over his nose as the vapor wafted into their direction before slowly tearing part of the large fabric and pressing it against Jonathan’s face to protect him. About an hour into their silence someone else joins the duo in an exhausted panic. 

“Are you assholes seriously smoking right now!?” The newcomer shouts angrily holding a tranquilizer close to their chest.

One of the goons casually shrugs as she blows smoke into the person’s face. “I just finished doing the auction shift. I deserve a break.”

“Especially after the shit show we had to prevent with that hellspawn they made us look after.” A different henchman added tiredly. 

“Why are you even here; Aren’t you supposed to be on the second floor watching over the shipment? Someone weirdo actually paid nearly 4 billion dollars for that Robin kid and if Roulette sees that you’re not making sure he gets there in one piece she’ll have your head.” The first lady says as she casually takes a drag of what must have been her eleventh cigarette. 

The newcomer slaps the cigarette out of both of their hands as they scream, “She’ll have all of our heads if we’re not looking for the two brats that escaped!”

“So what?” The henchman asks, not seeing the problem. “Two kids got away, big deal. Even if they make it to the police or whatever it’s not like we’re going to be here. The operation is already in the process of moving to one of our other locations.”

“Yeah and besides, it’s not like we don’t have others. Men, women, kids-”

“It was the Kryptonian and Abuse! They escaped through the vents and are probably heading up the stairs!”

That got the two panicking. Immediately all three of them run away with their equipment and split up down different hallways to search for the two of them. Little did they know they were right above their heads. Colin listens in closer and waits a bit longer then Jon feels like he needs to before quietly opening the letch of the vent below them and preparing to jump down the 65 feet below them. Jon wonders how they got so high up but now that he thinks about it there were a few ramps on the way here. 

The younger child stops Colin in his movements and jumps down ahead of him. He ungracefully lands face first onto the smooth concrete ground with a loud thud that thankfully doesn’t call any attention his way before turning around and holding his arms up as if he was going to catch the older boy. The redhead smacks his own forehead at the grinning boy and jumps down purposefully aiming for anywhere but the small child. Pale bare feet hit the ground and Colin safely rolls a short distance on his knees before standing up. 

“What were you trying to do?” He asks looking down at Jon.

The colorful child puts his arms down and tilts his head at Colin’s question. “I was going to catch you!”

“Superboy, I could have crushed you.”

“That’s okay, you can’t hurt me! Even if you could I don’t mind, I’ll heal quickly.” Jon replies happily as he marches to the sign and stares at it with great intensity. “So, how do we move this?”

The older child stands next to him and also inspects the sign. He tests it by trying to pull it off but sees it doesn’t budge. Then he feels around the front for a secret button or latch to no avail. Lastly, he merely slides it over to easily reveal a small lift that could easily fit a single adult, or in their case fit two kids with some difficulty, and a red button on the inside. Colin lets go of the sign and the metal instantly clicks back into its previous position as if it was never moved in the first place. 

“I can’t believe this was here the whole time…” He whispers in awe before reopening the entrance cautiously. Colin steps inside while Jon holds the entrance open and situates himself comfortably, making sure to leave enough room for Jon to squeeze in. “Here, now I’ll hold the door.”

“Mmm… Dami said this goes to the first floor and the exit is on the first floor, right?” Jon asks looking at the inside of the dumbwaiter lift.

“Yeah? That’s the point.”

The boy nods with incredible force and as he scrunches his face in thought. “Hey Colin, did you know we’re actually in Gotham right now?”

Colin blinks shockingly at this information and stares at Jon confusingly. “What? I didn’t know! I thought we might be close but I didn’t think we were still in the city.” He shakes his head before grabbing Jon’s wrist. “Whatever, that works for both of us. I know my way around Gotham like the back of my hand, so I can get us outta here in no time-”

“That’s great!” Jon interrupts as he gives the other a scanty but tight hug and rips his wrist away from the boy’s grasp. With his free hand, Jonathan immediately pushes the button and hops back as the elevator begins to rise much to a panicked Colin’s distress.

“Superboy what are you doing! Get inside-”

Jon doesn’t let him finish as he merely waves goodbye to the boy as he’s being lifted above. “Sorry Colin, I can’t leave yet. I still need to save Robin.”

“Superboy no! You can just come back with me and we can go to the police! They can save him!” The boy pleads, trying to hold the lift in long enough for the younger boy to join him.

“They might not make it but I’m still counting on you to tell them about this place. I have to save Dami- I mean Robin!”

“You’re just a kid and what you’re doing is insane and dangerous!” He nearly shouts struggling to hold his place for any longer. “Please just get in here and we can talk about this later but I’m not just going to leave a freaking seven-year-old alone in this place!”

Jon’s smile grows wider as he pries Colin’s boney fingers off the edge causing the lift to continue moving upwards. “Good thing you aren’t going to leave me here. You’re getting help!”

“Superboy! SUPERBO-”

He cuts the older boy’s desperate call as he lets go of the sign and puts it back in place before running away in the opposite direction. If this place is located in the east wing then that should mean that the west wing is the other way where the elevators and stairs are. He moves along the walls making sure to carefully look past every corner in the same way every spy movie he’s ever seen has done. That number does not give him any confidence as he’s only seen half a spy movie with Kathy before he found out she worked for a supervillain trying to take over his body.

He does see a few guards run by him but he manages to hide just in time to not be caught. Concrete eventually turns into a luscious red carpet of a casino complete with gambling machines and roulette wheels where there were still people in some of the seats gambling away paying no attention to the blood clothed child. Then again Jon is trying to be super extra sneaky as to not draw up too much attention. But humming the mission impossible theme probably isn’t helping with his chances of not getting caught. Either way by some miracle he isn’t immediately noticed by any of the frantic guards around him. There are too many people near the stairs and that’s the only thing between him and his friend. He needs a distraction.

“Hey, kid.” An older voice says next to him and Jonathan promptly jumps where he stands to find an older grey-haired man staring down at him and blocking him between the plant he decided to hide behind and the rest of the casino. “What are you planning?”

The child is extra intimidated by this person because they’re wearing an eyepatch over their right eye and if Jonathan has learned anything from television it’s that people with eyepatches were rarely the good guys. The boy gives the man a fearful expression and debates the ethics of lying to someone who might want to hurt him but his mother didn’t raise any liar so he instead answers him truthfully. “I’m… trying to create a distraction.”

“A distraction, huh?” The man chuckles humorously staring at the blood-stained house of El symbol on his chest. “You trying to take down Roulette’s entire operation? You trying to play the hero?” He asks, leaning his face closer to examine Jonathan.

Jon leans back against the wall nervously and replies, “Kinda? I mean I’m working on that too but she sold my friend Robin and now I have to save him and I think you just captured me so that might not happen now-”

“Woah, slow down there kiddo, I’m not going to capture you.” The man interrupts standing back up and straightens the fine suit he’s wearing.

“Really?” The boy asks in wonderment with a touch of hope.

“Really.” He promises standing straight back up.

Jon lets out a sigh of relief he didn’t know he was holding in and smiles up at the scary man gratefully. “Wow mister, I thought you were going to be really mean to me or something because you had an eyepatch but now I feel bad because you’re nice. I should have known better because I once met a girl who kinda looks like you who also had an eyepatch.”

“Oh really now?” He says as he leads Jonathan away from the plant and towards the elevator while keeping him out of sight. “Not everyone who has an eyepatch looks the same ya know.”

“Oops, sorry. I didn’t mean anything by it mister, but you really do look like her. What was her name… we were on a team together so I should know her name.”

“That shouldn’t matter kid, let’s get you upstairs and out of this place. I’m sure your parents are very worried about losing you-”

“Ravager! That was her name! You look just like Ravager!” Jon interrupts as he finally recalls the name of the girl the man reminds him of. “I didn’t talk to her but she seemed pretty nice!”

The grey-haired man instantly freezes at the name and turns the boy around to face him. “Wait, you’re not playing around?”

“Huh?” Jon blurts out at the man’s new more serious demeanor. “Are you calling me a liar? That’s just plain rude mister! I haven’t told you a single lie!”

“Holy crap, they’re recruiting younger and younger. Heroes must be getting pretty desperate if they’re sending ten-year-olds to fight human traffickers. So Robin is really here?” He asks seriously, boring his eye into Jonathan’s soul.

“Wait, I think we’re both confused now. My Robin is here but I think you’re talking about the other Robin.”

“Christ, Batman has two of them now?”

Jon shakes his head. “Okay, so we are confused. My Robin isn’t the official Robin yet but we’re working on it! That’s kinda why we’re here but then a bunch of bad stuff happened and now I have to save him but I’m not really stealthy cause you found me. I thought I was doing good but apparently being super duper sneaky is something I really need to work on and-”

“Kid, you need to learn to keep important information to yourself.” The eye-patched man groans running his hand over his face and mutters to himself. “First teenagers and now toddlers. What’s next, super babies?”

“Hey!” The child whines at the statement. “I’m right here!”

“Yeah yeah I know ya are, kid.” He says before turning on his heel. “You get out of here and I’ll deal with Roulette and Robin. Tell Nightwing he owes me one.”

“I don’t know who you are-” Jon is about to ask what he’s talking about when the older man pulls out a sword the half-Kryptonian failed to previously notice and stabs one of the gambling machines before slicing a crowded roulette table.

The people around them begin to scream calling the attention of every guard in the area and making them leave their current location. Jon doesn’t know what he’s talking about because he’s going to save Robin but he’s grateful to the stranger for creating the distraction he needed to get upstairs. Once he sees no one else is coming down the stairs Jonathan rushes up and does his best to find where his friend could be. He’s going to go save his best friend if it’s the last thing he does!

(Sorry for the cliffhanger. Here's a fun pic!)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm about to go on a long-ass ramble about my thought process for this chapter and the story specifically. Why? Cause I wanna. If you don't care and just want to read the story as is then that's completely fine. This is just Fan Fiction and I don't mind. I love that you even took the time to read my story.
> 
> So, some things I've been wanting to do with Jonathan since making this story:  
> -Jonathan in this story is significantly younger than he is in the comics and even younger than he was in canon when he discovered he was the son of Superman. It's why I write him more naive and innocent than he is portrayed in the comics. My weird crack idea that started this entire fic was, "What if Damian and Jon met when he was first introduced?" Then it spiraled as all fan ideas do.  
> -This meant that a more immature and developing Jonathan would be exposed to Damian at his absolute worst. Damian when he was first introduced was, for lack of a better term, a complete monster. It wasn't his fault but that doesn't mean he didn't do some terrible things. He learned to be a good person over time and after many reintroductions to the Bat-family, but it took a long time and the death of his father to really get things going for him. He learned humanity after becoming Dick Grayson's Robin. Spoiler (but not really) That's not going to happen in this fic.  
> -So now key events in both of these boys' stories are not going to happen (obviously) so now what's going to happen? It's been foreshadowed (Or at least I hope I did) that Damian is a horrible person. Violent, selfish, manipulative, and worst of all he's ten. He's just a kid who honestly doesn't know better and thinks what he's doing is right. Also since the beginning, I have done my best (very amateur best but best non the less) to convey that Jonathan's impressionable young mind mixed with his determined stubbornness, while freaking adorable, is actually very dangerous if molded in the way Damian wanted.  
> -It's also why I made Jonathan's desperate conclusion to bite off his own arm so violent. It's exactly the thing Damian would try to do if he was as invincible as Jonathan in the same situation.  
> (On a side note this fic will still be surprisingly rated T. I'm not going to change that because where there was a lot of blood and violence this will probably be the only instance it will get this bad. Some of you, or maybe not and you think I'm overreacting, will think it's either not that bad at all or horrible but I'm a squeamish person so I'm just stating that now to be safe. It doesn't feel right to tighten an entire 150k+ word fic for around 1k words of graphic detail. Also, there was a graphic violence warning)  
> -The Body Horror is new and is there for one sole reason: Kryptonians are freaking terrifying! Do y'all know how durable they are? Superman can take a nuke to the face, have all his body deteriorate, and then be okay later. Or take a Kryptonite bullet and just have someone take it out of him and the wound will close up instantly. Thank the lord almighty he was raised by the mode wholesome of southern farmers. It's just a weird thing I always thought about when I was around... 7 coincidentally. 
> 
> The picture: This is just the reference chart I use for all of the "kids" (even though some of them are older than me). It's just something nice I wanted to share especially since this is the second to last chapter of this arc. If you look close enough you can see where I stopped caring about proportions. 
> 
> (Sorry if long endnotes annoy you but if it didn't then thanks! I literally have no friends who are into comics so all of these thoughts and feelings have been pent up for literal years! As always I always appreciate it!)
> 
> Next Chapter: The rescue❤!


	17. Fun, Trust, and Love

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Their first real adventure is coming to a close but what will await them in the coming future? How will their actions affect their future? What scars will linger with both of them? Jon has no clue about any of that and honestly, he couldn't care less.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sup! Bet you weren't expecting me to update so soon! Well gotcha!
> 
> Thanks as always and I'm happy that I got positive feedback for the most part on my last chapter! This chapter is the feels warning so ye!
> 
> I'm going to talk about the art for this chapter: AKA "I cannot keep a consistent art style for the life of me because I'll see a pic I like and add things I like to my art and I try too many things I don't have a talent for" the live version. Also, I can't do dynamic poses that well but I'm probably being too critical of myself. The pic isn't of a specific scene but more of an accumulation of what this second story arc has been about before we move on to the next one. It has been a ride but it's over now and we'll be back to our regularly scheduled floof next chapter. But for now... ENJOY!

It happened in an instant. The earth beneath his feet was suddenly whisked away from him before he could even scream. Leading up to the catastrophic event he and every other hero in the world were standing on the front lines of ground zero for an extradimensional threat; nothing like anyone has ever seen before. He doesn’t know how long he has been fighting and killing everything that touches the ground from the portal above, but he was never really one for sleep.

His father would be disappointed in the path he’s taken. The man was one of the first modern heroes and a staunch believer of mercy over death. He failed to follow his teaching and if he was still alive… If his dad was alive he… But he’s not. His father died long before he got to see how bad things have gotten and Tim couldn’t be more grateful for that fact. Batman died believing that the world was a better place. 

In the heat of battle, after so many of their comrades died, after he had to kill people with the faces of the friends he misses so dearly, shining light bursts to life above them. At first, the young adult thought that another portal was forming above them and the thought made Tim want to give up. To stop fighting and let one of the invaders kill him. He hoped it was the alternate universe Kon-El because then he could at least feel a bit less guilty for what he did in the past.

But it wasn’t another portal, it wasn’t anything Tim has ever seen before. The white light knocked Tim off his feet with the force of several monorails. If his cowl wasn’t equipped to survive a nuke he might have perished like so many of the other heroes and enemies who were not equipped to withstand the power of the impending explosion. When the roaring in his ears finally stopped and the light faded all that was left of Metropolis was a barren crater.

No more are shiny skyscrapers or the globe of the famous Daily Planet looming over them. There wasn’t even any rubble that told of any structure ever existing in the city. The next thing Tim noticed was that the portal was gone! Most of their enemies have been incinerated to death and now there were no reinforcements coming. In a hurry, the man pulls off the ruined shock absorbers from his uniform and scrambles himself out of the dirt the blast buried half his body under. The first thing he does is call into the current Batman for any information.

“Red Robin to Batman-2, Red Robin to Batman-2!” He shouts as he scans the area to see the remaining allies and foes pull themselves out of the ground. 

“Robin-6 to Red Robin!” A feminine voice answers confusing Tim greatly. 

“Scarlet?”

“Yep, it’s Robin now though...” Scarlet laments waiting for the man to catch on.

Tim doesn’t have to think for long to know what happened. “Oh, Gods-”

“Get it together soldier, Red Hood- no. Batman-3 is already en route to your location!”

This couldn’t be happening! This can’t be how things are going down! Tim shakes his head frantically doing his best to get his act together but the situation only causes him to spiral down even further into despair. “J-Jonathan was with Dick! Where’s Jon!”

“NAMES!”

“SCARLET WHERE IS MY SON! I promised Superboy I’d take care of him so you better tell me he’s okay!” Red Robin wails as if it would fix everything. 

A frustrated grunt echoes through the mic and the sound of crashing furniture enters his ears before the new Robin speaks to him again. “I don’t know! That’s why Batman-3 is hauling ass there so get your shit together before I go there in this shitty technicolored spandex and do it for you!” With that, she hangs up leaving Tim alone with his dismal imagination.

He doesn’t hesitate to look for the boy he was left responsible for. On the solid dirt beneath his feet, he sees the ashen imprints of where some people met their fate, but he cannot give any energy deciphering whether they were friend or foe. He is a man on a mission, but he guesses that he’s not much of a man. Tim’s only nineteen and already a failure of a guardian to a small eleven-year-old boy.

Tim slides down a steep cavity, the point of impact, in hopes of finding the boy somewhere amidst the bodies. Jonathan is durable, he has super healing, he couldn’t possibly have perished from the explosion. Tim keeps telling himself this as he thinks he sees the bright blue and yellow-colored child lying in the center of the hole. 

He lets out the longest sigh of relief he’s ever had in his entire life as his booted leg dashes towards his ward only to be stopped by a flash of red and blue. Royal blue eyes glare at the caped man in front of him and try to push the floating person out of his way to no avail. A gloved hand hammers the House of El symbol on the larger man’s chest and yells, “Get out of my way, Superman!”

“I’m afraid I can’t do that Red Robin,” Superman declares firmly, taking his bo-staff out of the younger man’s arms. “Jon is coming with me. He’s too dangerous to be around right now.”

“Fuck you! Fuck you, Chris!” Red Robin spits back punching the man’s chest again and throwing away protocol. “Jon is my responsibility, not yours! Where were you when he needed you the most!? You weren’t around him when Clark, or Kara, or Lois, Lana, or Kon, or even Damian died! You don’t have the fucking right to tell me I can’t-”

Muscular arms hold his own much thinner arms back from repeatedly hitting him as he screams, “Dammit Tim, this isn’t about that! I wasn’t trying to-- He’s my brother and this isn’t about that right now! Look at Jon, just look at him!” 

“I am! I see him!”

“You see him but you aren’t paying attention!” Chris announces as he ragdolls the teenager’s body around him and holds his face to face the boy on the ground. “Are you really going to try and hold him when he looks like that?”

In the distance, while faint, was a glow of molten yellow and white traveling clearly through the tall child’s veins and crackling out of his skin. What should have been beautiful radiant blue eyes was replaced with a scolding hot red that threatens to bulge out of his face. Tim looks on in horror trying to figure out what it was when he remembers the color of the donation from above. 

He takes in a shaky breath as he steps back and covers his mouth with morbid realization, “T-this was all Jonathan…Jon...”

Superman hangs his head as he begins moving towards his brother. “And he’s going to blow up again if I don’t do something.”

Tim immediately springs into action but he’s no match for a full-blooded Kryptonian. Superman flies off with his little boy and out of the atmosphere before the man’s feet could even complete a full step and he goes crashing on his knees with a wail of agony as he looks up through his mask at the unfairly clear starry sky. 

“Robin.” A low but peppy voice calls out but Tim doesn’t recognize it as it sounds muffled in his ears. “God damn it, Robin! This is why we actually try and get some sleep in this family.”

“Huh?” The fifteen-year-old stupidly says as he awakes to the steady rumbles of the Batmobile as the voice next to him begins to chastise Tim. 

“Robin, this is literally the worst time for you to be dozing off! Damian and Jon have just crashed my old bike and you’re sleeping!” Nightwing groans frustratedly as he swerves between traffic making his way to Blüdhaven. The older man sticks his head out of the window shaking his fist at oncoming cars shouting, “WATCH IT! CAN’T YOU SEE I’M MORE IMPORTANT THAN YOU RIGHT NOW!”

“Nightwing.” Batgirl scolds from behind her mouthless mask. “No.”

The acrobat signs as he rolls up the window and runs a frantic hand through his thick locks. “Sorry, sorry. I- this is just too much stress. You can go back to sleep Baby Bird, we’re going to need all the energy we can get.”

"Yeeeaaahhh, that’s not happening anymore.” Robin mumbles taking off his mask to rub the sleepiness out of his eyes. “How long was I out?”

Dick looks at the clock on the center console and answers, “About twenty minutes. We’re only about ten minutes away from the interstate they were on when the feed cut out.”

“Huh, that’s a pretty good time for getting out of Gotham on a weekend.” Tim jokes, putting his domino mask back on and opening his laptop in the bat computer passenger seat. The sidekick begins to survey several of the highway cameras around Blüdhaven thinking that twenty minutes of him having one of the worst visions of his life was probably enough time for the satellite to load everything.

After a couple of minutes, Tim sees footage of the motorcycle veering off into the railroads. “Take a left here.” He commands his elder brother as the radio of the Batmobile turns on and an extremely enraged voice enters all of their ears.

“HOLY FUCK! It’s only been around three hours, how the hell did this happen?!” A deep masculine voice shouts.

The oldest Wayne sibling sighs as he activates the video calls function of the car. “Computer, show screen.” A holographic image is immediately produced to reveal Jason in his baggy grey sweat suite glory and a red domino mask sitting at the bat computer with the most enraged expression Tim’s ever seen him in and that’s saying something. “Little Wing, you’re a civilian and not supposed to be using the Bat-computer.”

“Fuck you, Dickhead! The hellspawn drugged Agent A and I’s tea and Oracle had to wake us the fuck up and the first thing we hear is that he got fucking kidnapped!” Jason elaborates getting more red with each word coming out of his mouth. “I knew we shouldn’t have let them have that stupid-ass playdate, but does anyone ever fucking listen to me? NO! No one ever listens to the fuck up-”

“Oh my god Little Wing, we don’t think you’re the fuck up of the family!” Nightwing groans tossing his head back tiredly. “And this is not the time to have this conversation!”

“This is the perfect time for this conversation because I was right! Whose idea was it to let those two even be friends?! Damia-”

“Names.”

“NAMES?! The little demon doesn’t have a name! He’s a psychotic murderer, a manipulative bastard, and a little SHIT!” Jason declares slamming his fist on the console of the Bat-computer. “We should’ve locked him away and let him out when he learned some fucking manners.”

“Jason no.” Batgirl scolds crossing her arms.

“Names.” Dick groans again wiping a hand down his face. “Also that is extremely unethical. Don’t you have a child development degree? Shouldn’t you be against that kind of thing?”

Even through the projection Tim can feel his second oldest brother roll his eyes. “I have an Early Childhood Special Education degree; It’s not the same thing. And ethics? Really? B let us fight supervillains before we could even drive legally! Robin doesn’t even have a learner’s permit yet! We have no standing on fucking ethics!” 

“I’ll get a permit when I feel like it! I just don’t think it’s important to have one when traffic in Gotham sucks!” Tim fires back as he scrolls through footage. “If you’re going to be on the Bat-computer can you check for satellite footage of interstate 84 running out of Blüdhaven?”

Jason stares at the screen in utter shock with his jaw nearly hitting the ground. “Blüdhaven.” He gapes blinking at them. “Blüdhaven!? The shits made it to Blüdhaven!? What the fuck-”

“Oh, and Oracle has already alerted Jonathan’s family and the Birds of Prey so she’ll be busy coordinating with them.” Tim continues ignoring the older teen’s flabbergasted expression. “Which means I’ll need you to look at cameras in the city to see if we can discover who took them and why”

“Blüdhaven!?” The curly-haired male screeches as he frantically hones into his old Robin training as he accesses the Bat-computer mainframe and goes to steal footage from every source he’s able to get his hands on. “Nightwing isn’t that-”

“I know it’s my turf! I already feel guilty enough, you don’t have to rub it in!” Nightwing practically growls in a Batman-like manner gripping the steering wheel tighter. “FUCK! Of all the places they could have gone too they picked Blüdhaven! Why couldn’t they have picked somewhere slightly nicer and closer like Philadelphia or Civic city?”

“Nightwing.” Cassandra consoles patting her distressed brother on the shoulder. “It’s not your fault. Not littlest brother’s fault they got taken. We only blame the villain who took them.” 

The older man sighs as he takes another turn at Tim’s discretion. “You’re right. I know it’s not their fault they got kidnapped but I’m sure as heck pissed that they even broke the rules and left in the first place!”

Tim exhales and takes his eyes off the monitor as he sees they’re approaching the targets last known location. “Yeah, and Superboy knows better! Why did he even go along with the Brat- Nightwing why are you turning red?” 

Indeed Nightwing was turning an impressive shade of red that was vastly different from Jason’s enraged scarlet. This shade had a bit more of a pink shade to it and coupled with the nervous bit of his lower lip it appeared that he was hiding something from them. Cass is the first one to figure out the reason for the man’s sudden change in demeanor as she is a master of reading body language and gasps in surprise.

“Really!?” She squawks, shaking her brother back and forth frantically as he parks the Bat-Mobile. “Are you serious!? He’s only seven!”

“What?” Jason and Tim say at the same time not understanding the teenage girl’s sudden behavior.

“I- I mean it might not be that! Superboy could just be a really nice friend with no ulterior reasons!” The vigilante quickly tries to defend as he shoots open the hood of the car and jumps out like his life depended on it. “I’m going to look for clues! Robin, you scan any evidence we find to the bat-computer! Batgirl, keep an eye out for any signs of the kidnappers!” 

“Wait, what just happened?” Jason asks Tim as Batgirl runs to follow him nimbly.

The young male in red just shrugs as he tucks his laptop under his arm and grabs his bo-staff. “I have no idea. We’ll continue this conversation in the Bat-Cave.” He says before verbally turning off the call and following his older vigilante siblings. 

When the young teen finally catches up to the two of them he finds them deep in the forest adjacent to the railroad and a far distance away from the highway examining the wreckage of the first edition Robin-cycle. It was sad to see such an important piece of the Robin legacy become nothing more than a smoldering pile of rubble. While Timothy himself has never had the chance to drive it, due to the fact that technology has greatly improved since he was handled the mantle, it’s still depressing to see. He remembers being young and enamored by the bike the few times some lucky cameraman was able to catch a glimpse of it. He would see those blurry but detailed photographs and think, “I could do better.” 

Once he figured out Batman’s and Robin’s identities Dick had already moved on from the navy blue beauty. He never got to take his own pictures of the first Robin-cycle but he does have many of the red one and of Jason’s own bike. When Tim finally entered the Batcave for the first time he’s a bit disappointed to admit the bike completely left his train of thought. The young detective didn’t even notice the little monument Bruce kept for each of his children where the aged bike unceremoniously gathered dust was missing. Heck, he couldn’t even pinpoint when it might’ve disappeared.

“The brat clearly thought this through,” Tim observes as he brushes the hot metal with the back of his hand. “He made sure to grab a set of wheels that no one would notice missing. It’s the only vehicle that was made before Batman put trackers on everything and even if he took Red Hood’s old Robin bike instead we would have noticed right away. His bike also didn’t have a tracker but it’s displayed so prominently next to the memorial it would have been a dead giveaway.”

“Wow, thanks for saying no one cared for me.” Nightwing sarcastically chides with a small grin. “As can you not call him Red Hood? Just say Little Wing or something.”

“He picked the name, not me,” Robin replies, plucking one of the kryptonite tranquilizer bullets from the melted back rubber tire and immediately squints his eyes. “This isn’t real kryptonite.” 

Nightwing stands from where he was examining a dented tree with a juice box in hand and kneels down next to the current Robin. “Really? What makes you say that?”

Tim knows he’s not being condescending but he really doesn’t like to explain himself when there are more important things to explore. “Real kryptonite wouldn’t be able to be easily refined into small needles. While it can be crafted or broken into shards it’s not durable to properly withstand the forging process to be made into something as delicate as a needle of this particular size. Larger needles like one used for vaccines or cannula, sure, but not tranquilizer darts. There is the option that magic might have been used to make this feat possible but I bet if we test it we’ll find it’s a black market synthetic kryptonite which points to this not being your run of the mill supervillain or eccentric philanthropist. My hypothesis is that due to the circumstances of their abrupt disappearance we’re dealing with a kidnapping affiliated with the black market. Drugs, prostitution, people, and of course illegal contraband of this level.”

The older vigilante whistles, impressed at his little brother’s deduction. “Woooo, you got all of that from one tiny green needle.”

“It’s not much, really. I still don’t know who would do this or the specific reasonings why. If I’d had to go further in my deduction I would predict that this crime was a spur of the moment decision. Someone who saw an opportunity and took it. No one knows what the rumored son of Superman looks like and even if they did know they couldn’t have known he would be in the area. It’s a risky decision to think about taking him, I’d even call it a gamble.” Tim concludes looking at the object in Dick’s hand. “Where did you get that?”

The older black and blue adorned hero sadly looks at the trash in his hands and holds it close to his chest. “It was in the seat compartment of the bike. There were also some scorched apple sauce packets in there. I didn’t mean to grab it but… They’re just kids. I know Dam… Fuck we really need a code name for him.”

“Hellspawn?”

“Robin, no.”

“Demon Brat.”

“Robin!”

“Angry Murder Goblin.”

“Robin, he's just a kid!” Nightwing shouts furiously at Timothy’s comical demeanor causing him to crush the empty box in his palms. “He’s just a kid who wanted to be like his father! A kid who saw what his family does for a living and not understanding there was more to life than that! It’s no different than a child playing doctor or teacher because their parents are one. He’s just a child who thought that what we do is something to look up to- something to aspire to be! Sound familiar?”

The boy in question hangs his head down in shame as he doesn’t answer, feeling that anything he says would be met with Nightwing’s own version of the Bat-glare.

Nightwing takes in a calming breath as he tosses the juice box back towards the fallen motorcycle. “Sorry, I didn’t mean-”

“No, no. I get it.” He says patting the man on the shoulder. This might be a difficult situation for all of them right now but of all the siblings Nightwing is clearly the one taking it the hardest. “I shouldn’t be saying stuff like that right now. Joking only wastes time we could be using to find them.”

“I still shouldn’t have said that to you.” The man laments. “I just- you… maybe I’m just being weird but I feel like I know he can be good. That even after all the stuff I’ve seen him do, all the horrible things he’s said to me since I’ve met him, and even after this situation I know he brought Superboy into I feel like he just needs focus. If he had a proper way to channel his emotions and feelings, or if he had someone to teach him morals he’ll be better. Someone to ground him to this reality and not the one he grew up with. He learned morals from Ra’s and Talia of all people on a cultist island! I’m not expecting perfection but with the right--... I’m probably just being sentimental.”

“Gods, you’re such a mother sometimes. Wait no- actually you sound like B when he thinks about adopting a new child.” Tim quips to lighten the mood because that’s a Robin’s job. “He has logs about each of us and before he took us in and he says something in the same vein as you just did.”

“Oh gods, I’m becoming B; my worst nightmare.” Nightwing laughs slapping the teen playfully on the arm. “Don’t even joke like that! Next thing I know I’ll be only answering people in grunts and somehow find a way to burn Kraft mac and cheese!”

Tim laughs back, remembering the time Bruce tried making them dinner from the iconic blue box thinking it would be easy and nearly burning the manor down. “World’s greatest detective and he can’t find a way to make an edible meal.”

Dick howls even harder at that as he holds his gut and stands up. “Hahahaha! O-Okay, okay. We better keep looking for clues. I think I saw Batgirl head deeper into the woods so she probably found something.”

Robin stands up and follows the man with a small smirk on his lips while he pockets the evidence to scan once they get back to the Bat-mobile. “Even after all this time I’m still shocked how quiet she can be. I swear, she’s better than Batman sometimes.”

“Sometimes?”

“I only say sometimes because it’s more impressive to have a 210-pound wall of muscle be a silent threat than a 118-pound teenage girl.” He defends while they travel deeper into the trees.

What they come across next is something Robin didn’t see coming but should have expected to because he’s more of an investigator than a fighter. In a small space between several trees were patches of blood and flatten glass that indicated that there were at least six bodies placed there previously. Batgirl swabs one of the bloodstains with ease and holds it up to Tim. 

“Fresh.” Is all she says about the matter.

“That must mean we just missed them!” Nightwing snarls in exasperation as he heads back to the car causing the two younger siblings to run after him before they’re left behind. “I’ll go on ahead, you two stay here and investigate the scene!”

“Wait, Let me put some of the evidence in there to scan so we’ll have something to go on!” Robin quickly yells as he opens the mini-lab in the Batmobile.

Batgirl meanwhile is pounding the back of the truck trying to get her motorized vehicle from it. “Give me bike!”

The trunk opens allowing for her to get the motorcycle and move it out of the way as Tim finishes his own duties of putting in samples, swabs, and evidence in each little compartment of the lab before pressing it back down into the center console. Seeing that everything was swiftly completed Nightwing locks himself in and drives off at speeds that would definitely get them arrested if they were normal civilians.

The two continue their investigation for about an hour when a pinging noise from Robin’s laptop goes off causing them to stop and answer to see a very tired Jason on screen. He was rubbing the corners of his eyes methodically in an obvious attempt to calm down that was very much failing. He takes a deep breath and leans forward with his elbows on the keyboard causing a whole lot of gibberish to start filling the screen. The teal-eyed man sees his error and quickly deletes it before finally addressing his two younger siblings. 

“That little demon spawn is a fucking menace.” He groans as he begins to play a series of clips that show the boy in question doing dare devilish feats of danger on the bike while Jonathan holds on tightly to his back. “I’ve concluded that the two didn’t meet their would-be kidnapper on the way to the city but holy fuck… This is like the worst magic carpet ride.”

Royal blue eyes blink from behind his mask as he slowing asks, “... Is that a fucking Aladin reference?”

“Well, he did show Superboy a whole new world,” Jason answers tiredly. “Gods, the little fuck even took a route that had no camera. If we didn’t have a satellite we wouldn’t have known without specifically looking for them.”

“That’s good to know but didn’t I ask you to look in Blüdhaven?”

“Do you know how hard it is to get a good image of Blüdhaven from the satellite? The city is practically made of light pollution, you’d be lucky to get a decent image from the street cameras that _doesn’t_ have a neon-colored glare to it.” The older man explains replacing the previous footage with several pictures and videos that might have shown the two boys but they were all buried rainbows or had an extreme glare at the forefront. “Insurance claims must be a fucking bitch in that place.”

“So Damian most likely picked the city knowing that it would have been hard to prove he was even there if there was no evidence to suggest so.” Tim says allowed as he scrolls through the videos and photos. “We’ll probably have to go into the city itself to gather more information.” He tells his older sister who is already getting on her bike and patting the back seat for him.

Robin ties his cape around his waist as he lifts his leg over the seat to get on and is about to put his laptop away when Jason interrupts him. “Before you hang up I did find two reports about incidents that may have involved the two.”

“Okay, just send me them and I’ll take a look.” Tim says as his finger hovers over the phone button.

“Replacement wait, I need to tell you what the descriptions are!” Jason shouts.

“I can read them myself.”

The man rolls his eyes at the younger teen and reveals, “Yeah but it’s funnier it I tell you that the police are calling them the tiny ninja and suicidal toddler.”

“Thanks, I hate it.” The boy groans, slapping his forehead. “Did they actually put that in an official police report?”

“Yes, that’s what makes it so great. Okay, bye.”

The call ends and the two young vigilantes are off into the city to discover what may have happened to the young boys. While they did gather a lot of information none of it directly pointed to anyone in particular as the few eye witness accounts of their action and police reports only solidified two things: no one has ever taught Damian how nonlethal force worked, and Jon is a magnet for terrible things happening to him.

With not too much to go on in the city both of the siblings were honestly about to quit and head back to the Batcave to reconvene all of their evidence when a fancily dressed woman finds them in an alley. While she is dressed in formal wear it also appears that it looks like she’s been running around for hours in stiff velvet flats. In her hands was a smartphone with a brightly bejeweled rose gold case that she holds out to the two.

“I-Hah- Woooo, I need to hit the gym more often.” She pants as she tries to get her bearings. 

The two didn’t really try to hide their presence in the city but it shocked them a bit to be so openly sought after by a normal civilian. Cassandra is the first to address the woman with a small wave and a polite, “Mam?”

“R-right! I- sorry, I overheard you questioning the officers about those- those boys and I have video of them.”

Tim’s eyes widen to the size of saucers as he runs up to her and takes a closer look at her phone. “You do!?”

“Y-yeah. I was at the opera house when it happened. M-my wife and I just left when this drunk driver almost hit the people in front of us-”

Robin cuts her off and gestures for her to speed through her story and get to the video. “Yes, yes, we know about the DUI but what do you have footage of?” 

She quickly scrambles through her phone to play the rather grainy footage but there were very little glare and enough detail that everyone on screen is easily identifiable if one knew what to look for. “I started recording right after that one little boy got hit by that car! I didn’t get any action but I have that one boy dressed up as you getting out of the car.” She explains as the events happen on screen.

Indeed she does as on the small screen it shows Damian getting out of the car and walking up to Jonathan who was talking to a woman in red with a very unique green tattoo over her body. While neither Robin nor Batgirl could decipher what the tattoo was of, it was enough of an indicator to ring a few bells in the younger teen. He’s seen something like that before but he can’t quite put his finger on it.

They thank the woman profusely and replay the video several times before handing the device back to her and sending her on her way. Feeling that they have all they can get for now without combing through the city for hours on end they drive back to Gotham and the Batcave where they meet up with the Birds of Prey and the rest of their siblings. The second the two enter the cave Tim jumps off and shoves Jason out of the computer chair so he can begin doing what he does best.

“Ow, Replacement what the fuck?!” The older man shouts from his new spot on the floor.

“I’m replacing you, that’s what.” Tim quips back immediately, reaching under the console for Batman’s espresso machine and begins making himself an entire pot.

“Oh fuck you-”

“Boys, play nice.” Catwoman scolds as she pulls Jason up on his feet. 

“Yes, mam…” Both males mumble dejectedly. 

Nightwing opens his mouth to begin their meeting when a flash of blonde and blue blur his vision and immediately flies to punch his little brother in the gut. “Little Wing!” He yells in worry as he sees the man being lifted a good six feet off the ground by his collar by a furiously Supergirl.

“You have ten seconds to explain to me how this happened to my baby cousin under your watch before I throw you into the fucking sun!” She hollers already preparing to launch the nineteen-year-old into the big ball of gas in the sky. 

“Fuck you super-bitch, I had shit to do with any of this!” Jason shouts back pulling on the girl’s hair. “Where the fuck has your lazy ass been?! We’ve been tryin’ ta call you for hours!”

Nightwing, always the mediator, does his best to calm her down with little success. The two begin throwing punches at each other obviously not holding anything back and creating new holes in the cavern. Huntress fires off a flare in the cave to get all of the children’s attention, nearly scorching a few memorabilia in the process. She waits for them to quiet down before shouting, “If you kids are done fighting can we go save these kids before Superman comes back and throws all of you out of the solar system?”

Oracle sighs as she puts a hand on Nightwing’s very tired person then rolls her wheelchair over to Robin who is currently searching through every criminal base looking for the woman with the large body marking. “Robin, what did you find?”

“The test proved my theory about the kryptonite being synthetic and it also proves that while Superboy is extremely durable he is still susceptible to human poisons since the tranquilizer used was nothing that should have affected a normal full-blooded Kryptonian. Batgirl and I found footage of the two talking to a woman with a very distinct tattoo that runs along her body. She seemed familiar so I believe that I must have come across her profile before.”

“A tattoo?” Black Canary questions when she hears the description. She walks up next to Oracle and leans over the console to get a closer look at the faces scrolling by on the screen. “What kind of tattoo?”

“It was something green.” Tim describes, eyes never leaving the monitors as he takes the pot of coffee from under the desk and begins to drink from it. “Snaked all around her body.”

“Wait a minute… Oh, no.” The leather-clad woman gasps as her jaw drops and turns back to her purple-clad teammate. “Huntress, is Roulette still in prison?”

The woman in question saunters up to Black Canary with a serious expression on her face. “Wow, that’s a name I haven’t heard in a hot minute. I don’t know.”

Tim types in the name of the person on the computer and instantly gets a hit. He pulls up the file from the criminal database to reveal a very in-depth profile on the villain in question. It wasn’t as long as the file they have on Gotham’s own rogues’ gallery but it was extensive enough to get insight on what they may be dealing with. He scans the profile and says, “It says here that she was recently released from Blüdhaven’s medium-security institution for good behavior.”

“Fucking bullshit!” Huntress shouts and she reloads an arrow into her crossbow. “That bitch can just never stay in jail!”

“So you know her?” Cassandra inquires with an inquisitive gaze upon her face, though it’s pretty hard to tell seeing as her mask completely covers it. 

The two women nod as they turn around to the rest of the people in the area. “Roulette was a villain to the Justice Society of America and The Justice League. Her main modus operandi used to be just holding illegal metahuman fight rings hidden in casinos around the world. Eventually, we managed to shut them all down and put her out of business, but that somehow made things worse. She’s a bit of a gambler so once she saw what metas are really capable of her little game became more dangerous.” Black Canary explains with clear disdain written on her face.

“Next thing we know she was mind-controlling heroes and using them in her operation to draw in more people.” Huntress continues biting the inside of her cheek. “This was long before the Birds of Prey became a team so my memories aren’t perfect but our last encounter with her was her lowest point yet.”

“How low?” Nightwing questions in a dangerous tone. 

“Metahuman trafficking. She saw that with the recent discovery of more metas in the world she was losing the novelty her Meta-Brawls once provided.” The crossbow expert growls disgusted at the words she was speaking. “There will always be sick fucks that want to watch people kill each other with superpowers but not as many as she used to get. She had all of these mind-controlled metas she kidnapped and had no use for so instead of letting them go or killing them off she opted to sell them to the highest bidders. People are apparently willing to pay a lot of money for metas for many reasons but all of them are sick.”

Jason, who was pulling himself out of a crater in the wall as he pushes the older blonde off of him, scowls and asks, “How did you find out about these Meta-Brawls?”

The siren tilts her head and absentmindedly twirls her blonde locks as she tries to remember before quickly snapping her fingers. “She broadcasted them on a secret frequency! It’s always something different so only people in the know would be able to access it with a certain fee.”

“Ah, so it’s Netflix but evil.” Tim teases with a black expression as he and Barbara both work on their respective computers to see if they can access it. 

They both ask the two women more questions to see if they can get more information to help pinpoint the one currently in use while everyone else in the cave silently watches not knowing what else they could do. Eventually after what feels like forever they end up with a rather blurry image on the screen of a battle going on. While the video was grainy the words spoken sounded clear as day causing everyone in the cave to freeze.

“DID YOU SEE THAT LADIES AND GENTLEMEN?! THE NEW BOY WONDER IS ON A ROLL WITH HIS SECOND KILL OF THE NIGHT!”

“Oh no…” Dick gasps as he runs up to the large monitor just as Tim puts the image in full screen. “Oh nononononononono-”

“Little brother!” Cassandra screams pointing at the blurry Damian. “His head, not right! Movement is his but mind is not!”

Tim bits his tongue at his identity being tainted but the announcer and does his best to pinpoint the location. Oracle pushes up her glasses as she’s the first one to get a signal and declares as such. “I’m getting signals from all over the globe! One in Hong Kong, another in Thailand, and one in Tokyo!”

“I’m getting several as well! One in Metropolis, Blüdhaven, Star City, and Central City!”

“That’s where several of her operations were located!” Black Canary shouts as she gets on her black Harley motorcycle. “We’re going to have to check each one! They could be literally anywhere as she has access to teleportation tech!”

Supergirl also begins to take off shouting, “Superwoman, Krypto, and I will check the eastern hemisphere!”

“Wait!” Time shouts before anyone could leave and spin around in the large chair. “Those aren’t all the locations and it could all just be misleading us. Oracle and I will continue to look for more but be prepared to be disappointed if they turn out empty!”

Everyone nods in understanding as some of them head to their respective vehicles or to the teleporters to each location. Jason takes Robin’s laptop to continue watching the feed to find if he can get a clearer image and decipher where they are using the live footage. Six hours later and five more kills from the youngest Wayne they get some information from Superwoman.

“Hong Kong was a bust but I managed to free the captives being held here,” Lana says with an enraged tone. “There were so many children… So many.”

“I’m sorry you had to see that Superwoman.” Barbara apologies as she does her best to block her own imagination of what horrors could have been witnessed to cause such a visceral reaction from the powerful hero. “Can you check up on Supergirl and Superdog in Paris? They’ve yet to call in for their hourly check-in.”

“On it. Superwoman out!”

The redhead woman lets out a huge exhale as she takes off her glasses to lean back in her chair harshly, causing it to roll back slightly. “I think if we don’t find anything else soon we’re going to have to call in the remaining Justice League member on the planet. The capture of a Kryptonian of Jonathan’s status is serious business and he could be literally anywhere.”

“Uh... “ The older teen blurts out as he hurriedly turns the monitor of the laptop around to face the two at the giant computer. “I think I found Jon.”

On the screen, it showed the colorful little boy in the center of the arena looking absolutely lost while another child began to grow in size. Tim squints at the image before they widen in recognition. “I know that other kid; his name is Colin Wilkes! Batman and I saved him from Scarecrow six months ago!”

“That’s a Gotham kid? How did he get in Meta-Brawl?!” Jason asks watching the fight begin and wincing as Jonathan is slammed against a wall. “Oof. Thank god he has invincibility.”

“Maybe if we find out it might lead us to Roulette because checking for these red-herrings is getting us nowhere,” Robin says as he slouches in his seat. “We should change our strategy.”

Oracle shakes her head and lifts the boy wonder’s head back up. “Don’t think like that Robin. At each location, there were people who needed to be saved and that’s not nothing. Heck, this is actually one of the largest human trafficking rings I’ve ever seen and we wouldn’t even have looked into it if it wasn’t for thi-”

“Are you telling me the two brats getting kidnapped is a good thing?” The older Wayne sibling nearly screeches, shoving the fight footage in her face just as the young Kent falls onto the ground and bounces like a beach ball.

The woman flinches at the sight and gently pushes the device away from her face. “No, of course not but I also can’t denounce that looking for these signals is helpful. We shouldn’t stop searching for them, but it’s obvious that we’re not going to be able to pinpoint their location using this method.”

“Okay, you keep searching for the signals while I look into how Colin was taken,” Tim confirms as he changes strategies. 

Not even half an hour later the young teen pinpoints the day he disappeared from the orphanage he was taken into the same time Jason begins to scream a long string of profanities. “Bitch what the fuck!? Fuck fuck fuck fuck FUUUUUUUUUCK! What the fuck-”

“Jay, what is it?” Barbra asks rolling over to where he was watching from his laptop. Her eyes widen as she sees what caused the other’s reactions and reacts appropriately. “Fuuuuuuuuuck!”

Okay, now Tim definitely has to see this. He pauses from his work to glance at the monitor to find- Oh fuck no. “IS THAT A KRYPTONITE SWORD!?”

“Ohhhhh fuck, this just got worse.” The wheelchair-bound female announces as she quickly heads to the Batcomputer. “It was already terrible and bad but this just got worse. I’m calling the League!”

“Who’s available? We need to make sure our identities aren’t compromised-”

“I don’t know and it doesn’t matter anymore! People have already died and now Superman’s son is going to be one of them!”

“Don’t forget Batman’s son.” Jason reminds them as the fight begins and he watches as the boy smartly begins running for the hills.

“Well, Batman’s son is the one doing the killing so he’s going to live a lot longer than Superman’s in this instant so my point still stands!” She shouts as she gets on the Justice League line from the Batcomputer. 

“Who wants to be the one to go upstairs and tell Lois?” Tim asks as he does his best not to pay attention to the fear building up in his chest watching Damian take slashes at his so- Superman’s son. 

“Oh no, I’m not going to go up there and get murdered by Lois freaking Lane!” Jason says holding his hands back defensively. “I’m just a poor innocent civilian.”

“Bullshit, you’re a trust-fund brat like the rest of us!” Robin argues back as Barbara gets on the line. She pulls the drawer next to her and puts a spare black domino mask to hide her identity. 

“Hush you two and no names.” She reminds the younger boys as the screen comes on to reveal- “BATMAN!”

“Batman!?” Robin gulps as he runs up to the computer. 

The man in question was standing next to Superman and Wonder Woman while the rest of the League were positioned a ways away from the monitor but obviously paying attention. “This is Batman. What is the meaning of this call?” The man says in his patented baritone voice reserved for being the Dark Knight. 

Jason quickly scrambles to the computer with the laptop in hand. “What the fuck are you doing back here Oldman?!”

“...Red Hood, why are you in the cave?” He asks at the appearance of his second eldest son. 

“We were able to come back a few days earlier than expected.” Wonder Woman explains as her compatriots didn’t bother answering his children. “Actually you just managed to catch us. We just got in the WatchTower not even an entire minute ago.”

Superman nods but his expression is more serious than his friend’s slightly confused one. “You’re calling the League. What is the situation?”

Oracle opens her mouth to begin explaining the situation better when Robin does her one better and yanks his laptop away from his brother and holds it up to the camera just in time to show Jonathan’s eyes getting flayed open by his friend’s katana. Tim definitely wasn’t expecting that to be what was on display but it saved all of them a lot of time as the entire League jaws drop onto the floor and before he could pull the screen away he could see all of them heading to the teleporters, or in Superman’s case bulldoze through the entrance of the cave with the force of a rocketship. 

This was going to be a long night.

Jon… Jonathan Samuel Kent doesn’t really know how this happened. If someone were to ask him how he got into his current predicament he would probably reply with a long-winded nonsensical ramble that didn’t answer the question. All he knew for sure was that he was his friend getting tied up and loaded into a suspicious white van then the rest deteriorated from there. Honestly, he’s impressing himself at this point due to the sheer obscurity of the entire situation. 

It was a rather beautiful sunrise in Gotham City, something he never thought was possible due to all the pollution clouds, and the half Kryptonian was taking a lovely drive down Mainstreet Gotham. Wait, no that’s not right. What was really happening was that this seven-year-old was dodging smacks to the head while doing his best not to be shot at by rouge machine-gun fire, and holding onto the windshield of a speeding van. Yep, that’s definitely a more accurate description of what’s happening.

At least they were only normal bullets.

The boy ignores the dull feeling of ammunition shooting into his side as he digs his blunt nails into the roof and leans back as far as he can before slamming his forehead directly into the windshield. All that accomplishes was creating a loud noise much to Jonathan’s disappointment. He guesses that he’s not as hard-headed as people keep telling him he is.

Several GCPD cars heading in the direction Jonathan just left see the commotion and half of them immediately make a U-turn to begin following him as the boy fights against the wind and slides into the van through the driver side window. The henchman driving tries to push him out but Jon merely shoves back until he’s in the man’s lap. The boy puts both his hands on the steering wheel and fights for control of the vehicle. He doesn’t know how driving works but if it’s anything like Mario Kart then Superboy is screwed either way because he sucks at that game!

He accidentally pressed the accelerator and instead of stopping the car like he wanted to, it began veering off the road uncontrollably. The car shoots off into opposing traffic and through a highway before the two men in the van decide that dying via a small child learning how to drive is not the way they want to go out and leap from the vehicle. Jon is left confused about what just happened but at least he has more time to figure out how to drive this thing.

The boy looks away from the road and stares at the three petals. Crap, Jon doesn’t know how to drive; he thought cars only had two petals. How the heck is he supposed to know how to stop the car now? After staring at his condition for a dangerously long time away from watching where he was driving he decides that this is probably a good time to put on his seatbelt. He takes his hands off the wheel and puts on the driver side seatbelt as the van begins to veer off to the side and scrape against the barrier stopping the car from driving off into Gotham Harbor. 

Jon puts his hands back onto the wheel as if he didn’t just almost kill an entire road full of innocent people on a Sunday morning at 7 am and steps on two random petals to stand on so that he can see where he is better. “They need a booster seat in this thing.” The child mumble to himself as the van suddenly accelerates to unimaginable speeds. He sees a handle to the right of him that looks like a magic eight ball moving without anyone touching it and he decides to move it from 3 to R because in his head R means rest because he doesn’t see a P for park. 

Suddenly the distance ahead of him gets farther away and the boy realizes the error of his way and smacks his own forehead at his stupidity. R obviously meant reverse and he didn’t even think of that answer. Jon quickly moves the nob back one number to 5 where he’s now moving forward again but much faster than he ever was before. “Why does this car have no brakes!?” He yells in frustration before remembering that all cars come with emergency brakes. He’s never seen anyone use it before but he knows it’s there. Honestly, he’s only ever seen it used as an extra platform where his parents put fast food bags but it’s still! It’s for emergencies and Jonathan definitely thinks this is an emergency!

He rolls up the windows because the smell of morning Gotham is just as terrible as afternoon and evening Gotham then looks for the lever that stops the car. He finds it under several fast food bags, as it always is for some reason, and promptly pulls it as hard as he can. It doesn’t budge even once and he tilts his head in confusion before realizing he didn’t press the button on the handle. Cars are really dumb; he doesn’t understand why teenagers on tv are always so excited to drive. Driving sucks all kinds of butts.

Jon yanks the handle instantly and instead of stopping the car as he wanted it to he loses the extremely little control he had of the van and crashes off the barrier and off the 135-foot tall bridge into the murk waters of Gotham Harbor. The boy surprisingly doesn’t scream as he hits the water and is just thankful he had the foresight to put on his seatbelt. The van hits the waters with the loudest crashing noise he’s ever heard in his entire life, knocking the wind out of him, before slowly sinking into the dark waters. 

He panics as he takes off his constraints and tries opening the door to no avail which is extremely confusing to him. Instead, he decides to evacuate into the back of the van when the water starts to fill the inside of the driver’s area. The child pulls open the latch on the back wall and crawls through the opening where he lands on something soft. He doesn’t pay too much mind to it as he stands to close the opening before water could get inside.

“Mmmmmrrrrpphhh!” A distinctly familiar angry groan fills the area where Jon realizes that he’s standing on the very friend he was trying to save. 

“Oops.” Jon winces as he steps off of the boys head to find- “Aaaaaaaahhhhhhhhh!” 

The young child screams as he sees two very dead bodies on the ground before him with their necks facing the wrong way. “Holy crap, holy crap, holy crap, holy crap-”

“Jonathan, we are in a tiny confined metal death machine that I predict you just drove into deep water- WHY ARE YOU COVERED IN BLOOD!?” Damian shouts as he finally notices the boy’s condition. “That area was not injured the last time I saw you!”

“Why are you yelling at me!? Why are there dead bodies!?” Jon shouts back pointing at the horrific scene before him. “Oh my gosh I’ve never seen a dead body before what the crap oh my gosh wha-”

The hyperventilating child’s face is promptly forced in the opposite direction and held between the older child’s bare hands tightly. “Jonathan, breath with me. In and out.” Jon follows his friend’s breathing patterns to the best of his ability until he calms down enough to do it without assistance. “Good, good… Now, why in the world are you here? I thought I told you to escape and get help.” Damian asks in a soothing tone.

Blue eyes blink profusely as they stare at his friend’s face and see that his mask is significantly broken and there was a large gash on his head that was still streaming blood. “I know you did but…” The boy lifts his hand up to softly brush the large wound and strokes it towards his friend’s hairline. “I couldn’t just leave you. Look at what they did to you…” Jon lifts his other hand and brushes his thumb under Damian’s right eye to find it bleeding behind the cracked lens of his mask. “Dami what happened to you- why are you not wearing pants?”

The boy in question flushes an impressive shade of red that Jon hasn’t seen unless the boy was angry and clicks his tongue. “-Tt- That’s what you hone in on right now?” He scoffs, releasing the other’s face. “That is of little importance right now.”

“Uh, I feel like that’s very important right now. You’re in your boxers and it’s very weird.”

“Jonathan, I am not going to get in this discussion right now, but if I need to sedate your curiosity then know that they thought I would sell better this way.” He explains with a hideous scowl in his face. “I was able to keep everything else but my boots and pants were lost. Those people are sick vexations and that’s all you need to know. Nothing else of note happened.”

“So what you're saying is that people like you more without pants… That’s weird. That’s really weird.” Jon concludes as he looks back up to Damian’s face, where his hands were still placed. “And what do you mean nothing else happened? Why is your face all hurt?”

“No, I answered your seemingly pressing question so now you answer mine. What happened to the left side of your body?”

“Oooh… I uh… I bit off my arm to escape, but I healed so it’s okay.” The boy says taking his hands off Damian’s face and inches back for the storm that’s about to rain down upon him.

He covers his ears in anticipation but there was no screaming to be had. Jon opens his eyes that he didn’t remember closing to find Damian gawking at him wide-eyed, or at least as wide as he could with one broken optic. “Uh… aren’t you going to yell at me and tell me how dumb I was?”

Damian only shakes his head sorrowfully as he stares at the bloody stains covering the boy in front of him. “You shouldn’t have come back to me. Look at what I made you do-”

“Hold up, you didn’t make me do anything-”

“Jonathan, I did.” He whimpers as tears begin to roll down his eyes. “Jonathan just look at yourself. You wouldn’t even be here if I didn’t talk you into this!”

Jon gawps the sobbing boy in complete disbelief and utterly speechless. He’s never seen Damian cry before and seeing it now… he doesn’t know what to do. The half-Kryptonian thought that the boy was incapable of tears. There was a lot happening around him right now and while his first instinct is to hug his friend he knows that it isn’t the best idea.

Apparently doing nothing is also a terrible idea because Damian begins to violently hit himself causing his scarred over injuries to bleed worse than it already was in an effort to stop the barrage of waterworks coming out of him; as if the pain would make him stop crying. Jonathan decides that this is definitely a hugging situation because even if he hates it the action would hold his arms down so that he could stop the self-inflicted injuries.

“Dami, Dami please stop it.” Jonathan begins to cry at seeing his friend in such an unstable state of mind. “It’s okay, I’m okay. I- I don’t blame you for anything.”

“No, Jonathan.” Damian sobs out in a broken breath as he doesn’t even bother fighting the affection. The ten-year-old merely goes limp in the hold as he slouches and eventually brought to his knees taking the other with him. “You should. Jonathan, you’re such a good person. Everyone is always saying how you’re such a kind and good person, but I’m not. I’m not good or kind at all. Jonathan, you’re wonderful. You’re an innocent in my own prideful conquest for acceptance and you’ve suffered the consequences. All you’ve ever wanted to be was my friend and I didn’t! I never wanted to be your friend! I just wanted to use you for my own benefit and you might’ve thought I would’ve learned better or changed but I didn’t!”

Jon buries his face in the crook of the wailing boy’s neck and runs his small hand through Damian’s black hair and holds him closer. “I know and I forgive you. I know about all the terrible things you’ve done Dami. I’m not stupid. I know every time you were nice to me you expected something in return. I also figured out people at school didn’t want to be near me because of you. I even know you killed those people over there.”

“Wha-”

“Dami, you have screamed how you were a trained assassin at me. Do you think I don’t know how to look up words on Google?” Jon asks with a slightly light-hearted tone through his own tears. “I know you’re not a good person. Heck, I know that you weren’t even a normal kid.”

The older boy sniffles the build-up in his nose and asks, “H-how long have you known?”

Jon shrugs not really having a clear answer. “Mmm… not sure. I guess I always kinda did.”

“Then you know why you should stay away from me, right?” He states helplessly in Jonathan’s grasp. “Jonathan, I’m worse than you can even comprehend. Ev-ever since I’ve gotten here I’ve been told that I was a brat, a hellspawn, a demon, a monster, a gremlin, and so many other terrible things and it is only now that I see they were right! In the eyes of this world murder is an atrocious sin that I feel no remorse for. I’ve killed hundreds of people! I’ve taken so many lives and people who do not share that sentiment, those who do not gain the thirst for blood I have always perished because of me. You are not the first person to be hurt because of me and I do not want you to become like me either!

“Do you not understand that I never had your best interest at heart? Do you need more proof that you should stay away from me? If that will make you stop then I’ll give you all the information I can give until you leave me alone. Besides murder, I helped my grandfather enslave entire villages, I doomed an entire nation to death, I’ve stolen priceless artifacts that would have helped millions, I killed an entire endangered species, I tortured countless people who did not agree with my ideals, I trained legions of assassins in my techniques to do just as I have, and worst of all I don’t regret any of it! Even after learning that the rest of the world sees my actions as reprehensible, I cannot do the same. Even though I now know how monstrous I truly am I still do not shed a tear for it. 

“All I regret meeting you. That is my only regret! If I had to do it all over again the only thing I’d change is agreeing to ever get to know you that fateful night. I hate you! I hate you so much! Do you hear me? I hate you!”

“Happy to hear it!” Jon grins as he hugs him with a tender warm and compassion that the other doesn’t understand. 

“Let go of me!” Damian screams as his violence begins anew as he tries to beat Jon off of him. “Let go of me! Do you think you’re being endearing? Do you think that you’re being the better person by not tossing me aside?! You’re being a fool! A complete and utter fool! Did you not hear me!? I hate you, I hate you, I hate you, I hate you, I hate you, I hate you, I hate you, I hate you, I hate you, I hate you, I hate you, I hate you, I hate you, I hate you, I hate you, I hate you, I. HATE. YOU!”

“Still happy to hear it.”

“Aaaarrrrrghhhh! You’re utterly infuriating! I just insulted you and yet you-”

“Dami,” Jon interrupts softly as he continues to stroke his hair as his own mother and father did for him when he’s upset. “It’s okay.”

The older boy growls like a feral animal as he continues to kick, punch, scream, and everything in between to get Jonathan off of him. “Why do you keep saying that!? Do you not see that not only do I put you in a terrible situation but that I also make you worse off! How I manipulate your weaknesses to my advantage or-”

“Dami, stop.” He sighs. “Dami, I know all of that. We’ve talked about this before. I know why you wanted me and I’ve told you that I knew. You keep going off about how you’re a bad person and I won’t lie to you; you’re freaking awful. Like, you’re a terrible person and you’re not the only person to tell me that. I know that you’re a bad person, but I don’t care. Do you remember the three things we agreed our relationship needed?”

Damian, for the first time since Jonathan wrapped his arms around him, calmed down as he answered, “Y-yeah.”

Jon smiles and asks, “Did you ever have fun with me?”

The boy frowns but the tears stop falling. “Yes.” He answers honestly as he remembers the times Jonathan’s presence actually made him happy.

“Do you trust me?”

The frown softens as does his voice. “Even though you rarely listen to me I do. I really do. You’re too good to lie to me.”

“Do you love me?”

“I-...” Damian begins but cuts himself off as he doesn’t know how to truly answer that question. “I don’t know what you mean…” 

“I love you.” Jon declares unashamed and without hesitation, unlike Damian. “I love you. I love you like I love everyone I love. Your presence makes me happy, I don’t want anything bad to happen to you, I hate seeing you hurt, I never want to watch you cry. I love how you like to learn about new things, I love how you love animals, I love that you don’t understand videogames, I love how competitive you get over small things, I love that you remember a weird thing I tell you that even I forget I said, and I love that stupid determination that got us here in the first place.

“Heck, I even love that you’re still learning how to be a kid. Dami, there are a lot of things I hate about you. I could spend all day telling you about them if you wanted but you already kinda hate yourself enough. You’re weird like that. You think you’re the best thing since sliced bread but I can see that you also hate yourself more than anyone else ever could.”

“But why? Why do you care for me so much? Why do you care for me to the point of loving me? I don’t even think my own father or mother loves me this much.” Damian asks as another choked sob breaks through his lips. “I- I took away your childhood. Do you not care about that? I took away your innocence.”

“Well lucky for you I have no idea what that word means or why people keep using it to talk about me!” Jon cheers as he laughs for no reason. “Besides, this is not nearly as bad as the poison milk thing. Like, I think I was only conscious for about four hours? That’s freaking nothing!”

“Jonathan, you brutalized yourself to get out of a situation I put you in.” Damian points out gesturing to all of Superboy's bloodstained attire.

“And I did that to myself. Honesty, I bet if I was smarter I could have thought of something else. I was stuck in a room with a kid who could grow huge! There were so many other ways now that I think about it.” The boy ponders after the fact kind of embarrassed by the route he took. “I don’t regret what I did and I definitely don’t regret following you here. I promised I’d protect you. You never forced me into that promise or forced me to stay friends with you. I did it because I wanted to.”

Damian chuckles as well but he does it because he’s honestly baffled at Jonathan’s purity, or maybe it was more of that hard-headed stupidity. “I doubt that we’re going to be able to even see each other after this horrible fiasco. I’m a dangerously bad person and the more you stay around me the more you hurt; I don’t want to see you hurt.”

“Then just, like, don’t hurt me.” The child answers as if it was the easiest thing in the world. “It’s not that hard. If you don’t want to see me hurt then don’t hurt me. Also if you’re so worried about being a bad person then try and be a good person. Easy peasy lemon squeezy!”

“I- what?” The boy asks with a confused expression on his face. 

“Also, who the heck is going to stop me,” Jon says as he lets go of the older child to wipe away some of the remaining tears on his face with a rather cocky expression. “My mom is Lois freaking Lane… Kent. She married freaking Superman of all people so if she’s going to try and argue that I shouldn’t be around you because you’re dangerous she has another thing coming!”

The van rattles as it’s clear something is lifting them up from under the water. The two glanced around even though there was no way to actually see what was doing it. The pale child turns Damian’s emerald eyes back towards him with his blood-stained arm and beams brightly at him. “I know you’re a bad person, but I’ve seen real kindness from you. I know you are capable of change. I’ll ask you again: Do you love me? Do you care enough about me to try? Will you actually try and not just use me?”

The sound of the crashing wave fills their ears as they break land and the back door to the vehicle happens to reveal the symbol of the Bat and the House of El. The morning light blinds them as it quickly seeps through the small space along with the worried screaming of both of their names. Among the impending chaos right before Jon is picked up by his father he hears Damian’s quiet but steady answer breakthrough.

“Yes.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The title of this chapter is for the last third of the chapter but it can also apply to the first and second as well to an extent. I've been meaning to show what Tim's visions are like so now was a good of a time as any because I needed to get that out before the next arch. 
> 
> The love Jon is talking about in this chapter isn't romantic love. He does have a crush but the love he's talking about is the basic care and compassion for a friend and fellow human being. Jon is a very loving person and isn't ashamed of using the full extent of that word.
> 
> There are obviously a lot of unresolved issues still lingering but this obviously isn't the end of the story. There is still so much to be done and more fluffy times to be had! There is so much that I can say about this chapter but I don't want to ramble. I just- so many references. I love DC so much and I grew up with JLU and the DCAU. I also love comics so much and Gods if comics weren't so fucking confusing then I would try shoving them down my friends' throats as they do to me with K-Pop. 
> 
> Anyways, next chapter: The aftermath of the boy's little escapade.


	18. The Days Before I Met You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clark Joseph Kent wasn't always a father but he always knew he wanted to be one.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sup! I'm sorry I'm sooooooo late! This had never happened before but I guess posting two long chapters in a row last week tired me out. I wasn't lazing around as I began to draw more art to take a break from writing but I'm back and energized for the weekly (Probably weekly?) chapter updates! 
> 
> Anyways I see more people have been reading and I'm so happy! Thanks so much for reading and if there are any typos I'm a shit editor and with an even shittier sleeping schedule. If there are many major typos I'll probably catch some of them the next day like I usually do in a sleep-induced panic.

Clark Joseph Kent thought he couldn’t be a father. All his life he saw splendid and happy families around him and yearned to have the same one day. Living in a small humble all American town only reinforced the idea that he’ll one day have a lovely home with a loving wife and a few children he can raise on his farm. When he was sixteen his parents told him about his origins that were something straight out of a comic book. After the shock and excitement of being a superpowered alien wore off the Kryptonian began to wonder if he’ll be able to have kids. 

Having children was always in his plan and while he has nothing against adoption, because that would have been hypocritical, it became more imperative after discovering that he was the last son of Krypton. Martha and Jonathan Kent didn’t have the answers he needed but promised to love and support him as they always did. He was forever grateful for landing in Smallville and into the arms of the caring couple but there are some things even they can’t help him with.

At the age of eighteen, he finally got his answer and it was absolutely life-shattering. His current girlfriend, Lana Lang, was actually the one to discover the answer to Clark’s predicament while helping him build the Fortress of Solitude. She was busy ripping him a new one about the name of his icy home when she accidentally knocked over some sort of computer with AI intelligence that was able to answer all the questions his birth parent’s hologram could not. Parenthood was obviously not the first thing he asked the program, especially with his girlfriend around, but she knew how important it was to her childhood friend and lover. The bold redhead asked the question Clark was avoiding and was met with crushing disappointment.

Kryptonians were not compatible with anyone other than other Kryptonians.

His romantic relationship with his best friend deteriorated quickly after that day for many reasons but the news he couldn’t have children of his own was one of the main reasons. Lana didn’t care whether Clark could conceive or not but he became closed off which strained their already stagnant relationship. They thankfully remained best friends but the man distanced himself from relationships for a long time. He focused on himself and his, honestly insane, efforts in becoming the first modern-day superhero. 

Four years at the tender age of twenty-two he perfected his control over his scarily powerful body, created a hero persona that embodied everything he wanted, finished his degree in journalism, and was ready to take on the world with confidence. He got an entry-level job at the Daily Planet and his own apartment in the city. It would take time getting used to, yet he didn’t falter one bit in his convictions. He was Clark Kent and he was prepared for anything!

Anything except the most wonderful and brave woman he’s ever met; Lois Lane. She was a bit older than him by about two years but even so, she managed to already be a highly esteemed reporter in her own right. The brunette had a sharp tongue and an even sharper wit that caused Clark to be at a complete loss for words. When he was around her all of his confidence vanished and he suddenly felt small. Clark was always a romantic at heart and if there was a time to believe in love at first sight now was the time. 

Things got worse when he finally debuted as Superman since Lois’ go-getter attitude and lack of boundaries often made her a prime target for villains. Lois just couldn’t last one week without getting kidnapped by a corrupt politician or megalomaniacal maniac she was reporting on. Having to be in close physical contact with the woman of his dreams as Superman is no way to get to know each other. Because he kept having to save Lois from increasingly dangerous situations, which she kind of put herself in most of the time, enemies and the public at large concluded that Lois Lane is the fastest way to get to Superman. 

He never intended this to be the majority of his and Lois’ relationship, but that’s what ended up happening. Heck, Clark never even had the guts speaking to the reporter as himself and now he’s stuck saving her all the time as his alter ego. The many wrongly believe that the Kryptonian has his life together, but truthfully he has no idea what he is doing most of the time. 

A year into being Superman, rumors of a vigilante in Gotham reach his ears. Gotham is a place that he never visited in his adventures due to how prolific in crime it was. He couldn’t bear to go near it as he would hear the cries of thousands he couldn’t possibly save no matter how long he worked. Plus there was an entire world he had to take care of so the large city in Jersey fell off his radar. Clark never had reason to go into Gotham City specifically but there was a plot with Luthor happening and he just couldn’t keep avoiding it any longer. 

That’s when he was confronted by the strangest sight he’s ever laid his eyes upon. Superman was flying through the city, saving as many people as he could, when a brightly dressed ten-year-old of all people jumped on the end of his cape. The Man of Steel had to land quickly because he was currently twenty stories in the sky and extremely confused. As soon as he landed he turned to scold the boy for doing something so dangerous but only lasted less than a minute before a larger man dressed like a freaking Bat swooped down from the rooftops to punch him in the face.

When he heard of the dark vigilante he wasn’t expecting the man to be a father. This fact… Well, this fact quite possibly made the man rightfully infuriated because he has something Clark always wanted. Clark wanted to be a father more than anything, more than being Superman some days, yet here is this weirdo in a Bat costume putting his son in a suit to fight crime. The thing wasn’t even inconspicuous; the boy was dressed as a damn traffic light! Clark eventually had to come to terms with the fact there was a ten-year-old vigilante out in Gotham of all places after having to work begrudgingly with Batman. He had to admit, the kid did some good work but Clark was still strongly against the idea.

In fact, he was so against it he stayed enraged for days after the mission was over. He couldn’t really talk about his troubles to anyone because his only friend in Metropolis was a kind photographer who didn’t deserve to be ranted at. Clark was still unsure what topics were comfortable to discuss with the nice boy and he doesn’t think their friendship was quite on that level yet. That’s when Lois Lane, the woman he had a major crush on but never talked to even after a year of working together, comes into the office holding a copy of the Gotham Gazette.

She holds the paper up to Perry White, and the entire floor by extension, proclaiming, “This Batman sounds incredible!”

That was the last thing Clark Joseph Kent needed to hear and before he could stop himself he stood from his desk and shouted back, “FUCK THAT GUY!”

As soon as the words left his mouth he could feel his mother grabbing a bar of soap to wash his mouth out all the way back in Smallville. What makes him feel even worse is that those will forever be the first words he said to the woman he likes. The entire office screeches to a halt as they stare at the usually meek mild-mannered reporter with open mouths. It was like the world was ending and the first sign of the apocalypse revealed itself. Clark wanted to do nothing more than to crawl in a hole and die, but he doesn’t so he opts to just turn red from embarrassment and run out of the room covering his face. 

He makes it to the lobby of their building before he’s stopped by a gentle hand on his shoulder. And instead of turning around to see who it is, he crumbles onto the floor in a fetal position still covering his face. Why? Clark has no idea but he suspects it’s the hope of the ground swallowing him whole keeping him there.

“Kill me.” He groans in the middle of the lobby and probably startling anyone who happens upon the scene. 

A laugh follows his request and replies, “Kinda an overreaction, don’t cha’ think?”

Oh dear Lord above, it was Lois Lane.

“I’m so sorry. Please just- can you just ignore me-- like forever?” He pleads desperately, not being able to bear the thought of having to look Lois in her beautiful lavender eyes ever again after this shameful display. 

“Geez Clark, didn’t know you were such a drama queen.” She laughs as she squats down in her purple heels to get closer to the man. “I didn’t know that Batman was such a sensitive topic for you. You don’t have to be so embarrassed about it, we all have those things that we feel passionate about. Hell, I probably have the most outburst in the office so one like that is nothing. I’m sure that no one will even remember it.”

While it’s not how he imagined his first conversation with the famous reporter of the Daily Planet to go, he is forever grateful that it leads to more conversations afterward. They started a solid friendship which led to them spending more time outside of work and more importantly outside of Superman and his Damsel in Distress. He always hated when other news outlets characterized Lois as some dumb girl who always needs saving. 

Sure she got kidnapped a lot but she was far from helpless. The reporter got into many of those situations trying to reveal corruption and dark secrets to the world. She was willing to go where no one else dared venture just to satisfy her curiosity and sense of justice. Most of all Lois was stubborn enough not to let anything break down her spirit no matter what may come. Lois freaking Lane stared down General Zod, shoved a recorder in Darkside’s face, slapped Lex Luthor, and flipped off Brainiac. Some may call her insane, but Clark knows that she’s the bravest person on the planet.

She’s also one of the most observant people the man has ever met. Around the time the Justice League was formed Clark’s desire for a family of his own strengthened. He wanted a wife to love rather than a woman he’s pining for. He wanted a child of his own rather than the knowledge he would be the last of his kind. The two were out eating sushi together on a Friday night when the southern man noticed a happy family sitting on the other side of the seating area. The two men were happily cooing over a young girl and laughing at something silly she said when the sharp snap of fingers caught his attention. 

Clark immediately looks back to his friend with a sheepish frown. “S-sorry Lois, what did you say?”

The brunette rolls her eyes in an exasperated manner and puts her chopsticks down to cross her arms judgmentally. “I asked if you knew them. You’ve been glancing over at that table this entire time. Is one of them an ex?”

“Wh-wha- No! I mean- no. I’m straight.” He sputters out quietly and endlessly ashamed of himself. “I was just… I didn’t mean to look. I was just… it’s stupid. You wouldn’t understand.”

Oh, that was the wrong thing to say to Lois Lane of all people as she immediately grabs the front of Clark’s shirt-collar and forces his sad blue eye to stare at her. “I damn well can’t understand if you don’t tell me.” She grits out of her teeth. “Now, either you’re going to tell me what’s bothering you or I’ll find out in other ways. So, SPILL.”

He immediately surrenders to her threat and raises his hands in defeat. It’s almost funny how literal god never made him keel over but one enraged glance from Lois forced him to wave the metaphorical white flag of surrender. Clark nods meekly as she drops him back into his seat across from herself and waits for him to answer. He readjusts his askew lenses before taking in a deep breath. He’s never told anyone about his problems other than his parents and Lana, but he guesses if he’s going to spill his guts out it might as well be to someone he trusts. Lois might be a reporter but she has great integrity. 

“I… I want a family.” Gods, he’s really bad at starting conversations.

Purple eyes blink at him confusingly as she replies, “I mean, okay but you should at least ask me out first before talking about kids.”

“No!” Clark yelps turning red in the face at her words. “I said that wrong! I wasn’t- I didn’t mean it like that! What I mean to say wa-was…” He takes in a deep breath before continuing. “I want a family one day. But not specifically with you- I wasn’t directing that statement directly to you. It was more of a general statement. I want a wife and kid of my own in the future, maybe even the near future but I… it’s not the same. I- I uh… God, how do I say this? I can’t have kids in.. well you know?” 

“I see.” She says while leaning back in her seat with an understanding expression. “You’ve probably thought about this already, but I have to ask; what about adoption?”

He sighs tiredly and answers, “I have and I have no problems with adoption. I’m adopted myself and if I had the opportunity I would do it in a heartbeat. It’s just that… having a child of my own was important to me growing up. While some kids would play superhero or police I would play house. It was just something I always knew I wanted. I know that it’s selfish and probably not important-”

“Now hold up, no one said having kids of your own isn’t important.” Lois interrupts, holding her palm up to stop the man’s negative assumptions. “Wanting to have kids of your own is the least selfish thing I’ve heard of. Who told you that it was?”

“No one but I thought-”

“There’s your problem Smallville; you overthink things way too much.” She asserts as she picks up her chopsticks and angrily shovels salmon nigiri into her mouth. The older woman takes a large swig of water to help it go down before trying to glare some confidence into her friend. “You’re always your own worst critic. I mean honestly, how in the world is wanting to start a family selfish?”

Clark stutters as he searches through his memory banks to mind the train of thought that led him to this conclusion. “I- Isn’t it just selfish to be unhappy with not having children of my own when there are so many kids who don’t have families-”

“Christ almighty Clark, you can’t adopt every orphan you come across.” She groans out with a shake of her head. “And while it’s unfortunate that there are so many children that need families it’s not your job to beat yourself up over it and it sure as Hell doesn’t make you selfish that you want a child of your own. Imagine the situation the other way around; Is it selfish to adopt because I’m wasting the opportunity to continue the human race?”

“Lois that’s not the same thing.” The man sighs, shaking his head in the same way. “No reasonable person would say that.”

“Because it’s ridiculous just like the thought of wanting a child making you selfish,” Lois explains staring the man down. “But I got you off-topic. Sorry for bringing this conversation to a different uncomfortable place.”

“No need to apologize, Lois. It’s a perfectly valid concern and something I’ve also been thinking about intently.” He reassures feeling a small weight lighten. It’s not off his shoulders but his soul feels a bit more light after talking about it to someone other than his family. 

She smiles back. “So what’s got you thinking so much about starting a family of your own now? Meet someone that can tolerate your country bumpkin self?”

“Hey, I ain’t no bumpkin’ mam.” He jokes in an exaggerated version of his Kansas accent while holding his baseball cap to his chest like a ten-gallon cowboy hat. “Ya see here missy, ma didn’t raise no roughneck and if I were to find myself just a darlin’ little lass to take as my fetchin’ bride I reckon she be de most bonafide sweetheart this side of da south.”

Lois loses her composure at Clark’s jest and laughs so loud she captures the attention of their half of the restaurant. “Hahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahah! I-HAHA! H-Holy shit Smallville- Pfffffft- I- Oh my god I can’t- I- Hahahahahahaha!”

“It’s not that funny Lois.” The man grins proudly as he speaks normally while waiting for her to settle down. “It’s always amusing to see you lose it so quickly when I do that. No one else ever has that reaction.”

“I- Haha… I just- Wwwhhhhoooooo, You just do it so well.” She cries, wiping a tear off the corner of her eye. “O-okay. Okay, I’m good. I’m good. Continue.”

“Glad I have your permission.” Clark teases putting his hat back down next to his seat and putting on a more somber expression. “I think it might be age. I know I’m only twenty-five and I shouldn’t rush into these kinds of things, but I can’t help but feel like it’ll never happen. There… There are so many downsides to dating me and the fact that I can’t have a kid might throw some girl off. Heck, it even throws me off.”

“Downsides?” Lois questions thinking about the possible downsides to being in a relationship with Clark Kent of all people. “Clark, there are ups and downs to everybody. You’re wonderful and I’m sure any girl would be lucky to date you let alone marry you. There are so many things to like about you.”

“Oh yeah, like what?”

“Abs.” She answers without missing a beat.

Now it was Clark’s turn to look at his composure as he busted a gut laughing at the way she didn’t even hesitate to point out his physique. It takes him the same amount of time to get himself together as Lois did previously and he takes a drink of water to help calm down. The reporter looks back at his colleague to find her smirking at him victoriously. 

“Eye for an eye Smallville.” She states boastfully. “But seriously, do you know what kind of a catch you are? You have a stable job, great parents, you’re a hell of a good listener, and by God man have you looked in a mirror? I can only imagine how you are in bed.”

“Lois!” Clark gasps at her sexual comment and feels himself turn red. 

She rolls her eyes again at his embarrassment. “Come on Clark, we’re both adults here.”

“It’s still not something I want to hear.” He shudders.

The rest of their night goes about more jovially than when it started but Clark knew he would never be able to fully explain his grievance to Lois as long as he and Superman were two different people. Besides, it would be weird to talk more in-depth about that topic to her since they’re just friends. It makes him more uncomfortable because he feels like he’s not only lying to her about being Superman but also the fact that he likes her more than a friend. The Kryptonian knows he should tell her about his feelings but it’s an invisible wall he can’t seem to get past in his mind.

A year later he’s almost killed in a battle with Doomsday. It’s honestly a miracle that he didn’t die because he… he should be dead. Contrary to popular belief, while he does have amazing healing capabilities, he cannot heal fatal injuries like so many have believed. If his heart isn’t beating he’s not going to just magically still be living. He might be able to have all his skin vaporized or crash though several buildings without a sweat but without his brain or hear he cannot live; He’s durable, not immortal. When the monstrosity aimed his piercing claw at his chest Superman was prepared to die to save the world, but something amazing happened.

It didn’t go through.

Beings of lesser strength were able to injure him with much less force however for some reason, the Man of Steel became much harder to hurt in that very instance. It was enough of a startling revelation to give him the upper edge to defeat the beast once and for all. He was never able to recreate the complete invincibility he had in that very moment, no matter how many tests Batman made him endure, so he chalked it up to an act of God. The Dark Knight called him a fucking idiot but he knows that he doesn’t mean it… probably.

His near-death experience was just the thing he needed to give him a new lease on life and begin what he should have done a long time ago. He confessed his secret to Lois, confessed his love for her, and he was pleasantly surprised that she felt the same way about him. She loved Clark Kent and Loved Superman. They dated, they talked, and eventually, they got married. Two years into his married life he was still bothered by the fact he couldn’t have children of his own. His wife does her best to comfort him, but it’s still a hard thing to come to grips with.

With the arrival of his cousin Kara Zor-El three years later he was finally able to confide his troubles with someone who could relate to him. The girl was… angry. He doesn’t know a better way to describe the last female Kryptonian in the universe but angry is a good place to start. She was young, brash, and more importantly mourning. To her, the destruction of their home hit harder than it ever did for Clark. He might be the last son of Krypton, but at heart, he was a normal American boy. It’s one thing to hear he’s the last of his kind, yet it was something else to experience it.

Kara was fifteen for the last twenty-plus years of her life and the worst day of her life was still fresh in her mind. She lived and breathed Krypton; she spoke the language, bathed in the culture, and loved its people. The blonde had to deal with the fact that she was the last female of her kind and would never be able to continue the existence of her people. Theoretically, she could but Clark is from Kansas, not Alabama. Neither of them was ever going to cross that line because it was just a million levels of ew.

The two once had a very short conversation about not being able to have children of their own and surprisingly it was Kara who had come to terms with it while Clark was still battling himself over it. “There will always be a way to continue our world’s memory. We have a history that can be taught and a language that can be learned. Our people will die with us but our legacy will never be forgotten.” 

The very next day Clark donated the archives of his people to the Metropolis Museum of History and Technology. Having his own children was subconsciously a way to deal with his survivor's guilt. Without realizing it he made being one of the last of his kind a personal duty to make sure they continue even when he couldn’t. Lois might tell him it’s not selfish that he wants a family, but he knows it was selfish to want one just so he wouldn't be alone as a part of a dying species. He sees now after a long time that it didn’t just have to be his responsibility to keep his people alive. Sharing it with the world was the first step to growth and a way to move on.

With that weight lifted off his shoulders, he felt as though he could finally adopt a child while not having the burden of his issue hinder what should be a loving home for whoever comes into their life. He needs to love and care for their child no matter what and the guilt he felt from not being able to continue his race should not hold him back. So when his lovely, loyal, devoted wife stumbles out of their bathroom holding a positive pregnancy test with shaky hands, Clark did the most appropriate thing he could have done in that situation.

He fainted. 

When he woke the first thing he saw was the test being flung at him violently by his offended spouse. He didn’t blame her but he also couldn’t help himself. How does one deal with coming to grips with the reality they’re never going to conceive a child only to suddenly be told they’re having one? After many tests to the insistence of both of them, it was deemed that Lois was in fact pregnant with the first and only Kryptonian-Human hybrid. 

At the news the first thing to come out of the woman’s mouth besides surprised sputters was, “We’ve had soooooo much unprotected sex, how am I only NOW pregnant?!”

“I don’t know!” Clark replies red in the face and turns to the person that officiated the news. “How did this happen?!”

Batman blinks at the couple slowly while his youngest son, the newest Robin, begins bellowing laughs in the corner of the Batcave at the sheer absurdity of the situation. Instead of trying to dignify that question with an answer he just turns around, picks up the twelve-year-old by the back of his uniform like a cat, and walks out of the cave without another word much to the boy’s disappointment. Before they completely left the cave Superman could hear Jason shouting, “Wow B, you’re a fucking pussy! Answer them!”

After the fiasco that was dealt with the couple rejoiced excitedly before the horrifying realization settled in that they were pregnant. They weren’t dismayed by the fact they were going to be parents, something they both decided they wanted to do, but by what this will mean for the world at large. It would be one thing to have a human child or a full Kryptonian but a hybrid is something that doesn’t exist. The two already established the fact any kid they would raise together would have a tough life. They were prepared to go through as many hurdles as possible to ensure they would have a good and fulfilling life.

Their child will be the first and maybe last of their kind whose abilities would be completely unknown to them. There would be a chance that they would be like Superman, or powerless, or something completely different. They could never prepare for that eventuality, but that didn’t stop them from doing their best. Clark only knew his child existed for less than a day and he would already do anything for them.

So after debating with themselves for what felt like forever they two decided to move out of Metropolis to somewhere far away and not tell anybody that they had a child beside a handful of trusted people. They never announced it, never informed their work, never even went to a hospital, and never gave their son an official birth certificate. All of their baby’s paperwork was forged after the fact so that he’ll be able to live a normal life.

The decision to hide the fact he is Superman to his son was entirely Clark’s idea. He thought that if his boy knew what he was he might have done something reckless. What kid wouldn’t if they knew they were the son of Superman? If this happened a few years earlier when Clark was still insecure about his place in the world and of being the last of his people he believes that things would be very different. He would have shared his people’s history with him and taught him everything to know about Krypton. Now that the man is older and wiser he wouldn’t want that burden on anyone else’s shoulders. He knows what that kind of information does to people, what it did for him, and he couldn’t bear to give that to his son.

Unfortunately, things don’t always go the way he plans. He couldn’t keep his baby boy sheltered and naive forever no matter how hard he tried. There was something… Something wrong with his son. Lois was the first to notice it because while he may have supervision she has super intuition. Jonathan Samuel Kent was only a day old when Lois Lane-Kent noticed something off about her baby. If she was anyone else she would have chalked it up to post labor haze or the fact that Jon was a half-human, but she was not anyone else.

Jon opened his eyes and looked at her. Jonathan was quietly sleeping on her chest in their makeshift infirmary when he suddenly woke up and looked at her with empty blue eyes. It lasted a minute but at that moment she couldn’t detect his pupils or the whites of his eyes. It was just sky blue as far as she could see. Lois immediately woke up her sleeping husband but as soon as Clark saw Jonathan it disappeared and he went back to sleep. The Kryptonian trusts his wife even though he didn’t see anything because she’s never led him astray before and she’s not the kind of person to make something like that up. 

Clark had his own encounter with Jonathan’s strangeness when the boy was two-years-old. The man was teaching him how to recognize people with an old photo album but his answers weren’t making any sense. All of his answers were correct but there was no way Jon should have known any of what he did.

“Who’s this Jonno?” He asks in a soft voice pointing at Lois’ father.

“Papa!” Jon answers happily, clapping his chubby little hands. 

“That’s right, Sport! Papa! Now, who is this?” Clark points to a picture of his own father.

“Pa!” Jon smacks the face of his grandfather fondly as the man nods in approval.

“Good job! Now, who’s this person?” He asks, putting the book down and pointing to himself. 

Clark’s waiting smile immediately dissipates as instead of hearing the usual, “Daddy!” from his son’s mouth Jon instead answers, “Superman!”

The new father nearly falls over in his seat at Jonathan’s reply and he quickly recomposes himself in an attempt to not throw the boy off to his secret. “N-no Jonno, not Superman. Daddy! Can you say, Daddy?”

“Daddy!” Jon repeats pointing at his dad. 

He sighs in relief thinking it was just a misunderstanding and reopens the book. “Correct! Now, who is this?” He points to a picture of Lucy Lane.

“Aun’ Lulu!”

“Good! And this?” Clark points to his own mother.

“Ma!”

“Terrific, you’re such a good boy Jon. Who’s this?” He points to Kara.

“Supergirl!” This time Clark really did fall over and notices that his son’s eyes are glazed over as if he was in some sort of trance. 

“Lois!” The man of steel cries as he gets up off the floor in a panic. “Lois, get the JLA photo album! NOW!”

He has a hunch and by gods, he wasn’t a reporter for nothing! Rushed and forceful footsteps crash above him before stomping down the creaky wooden step with righteous frenzy as his soaked spouse holds out the book in her wet hands. It’s clear that she was in the middle of a shower as there was still shampoo lather in her hair and a damp yellow towel covering her body. The fearful tone of her husband’s voice made her abide by his odd request without question and sat down at the kitchen table to see what was going on.

He opens the book and lands on the first JLA family picnic that happened three years ago and points to one of the few pictures he has of Batman. “Who’s this Jon?”

“Batman!”

Lois blinks and turns to Clark confusingly. “We… he’s never seen Batman before.” She says knowing full well that they strictly control the things Jon watches. 

“He’s also never seen Superman before.” He responds cryptically as he points to a photo of himself in costume. “Who’s this Jonno?”

“Daddy!”

“What the fu---fudge. What the fudge is happening?” Lois nearly swears as she takes the book into her hands and points at Nightwing. “Jon, can you tell Mommy who this is?”

“Dick!”

“And this?” She points at Wonder Woman. 

“Aun’ Dia- Di… Di-an-na!”

“And this?” Clark points at a picture of Lana.

“Superwoman!”

“And this?” Lois points at the Flash.

“Wally!”

The two blink at Jon’s answer because it was wrong. Wally wasn’t the Flash, he was Kid Flash. Lois flips through the book to find an actual picture of Kid Flash and points at it for her son. “Who’s this Jon?”

“Wally!”

“I guess the Flash costumes are too confusing for him to tell apart,” Lois concludes, closing the book. “But it’s still weird he knows any of this. He’s never met or seen any of these people except Lana and even then he shouldn’t know she’s Superwoman! She only got powers, like, six months ago.”

“I’m well aware Lois. It’s also concerning that he doesn’t just know who they are but their identities as well.”

“At least he doesn’t know who Batman is.” She laughs trying to alleviate the atmosphere of the situation. 

“Brooose!” 

Oh fuck.

Maybe it was wishful thinking or the hope they didn’t need Justice League intervention but they didn’t tell anyone of their discovery. It was reckless and dangerous to do but neither of them could handle the idea that something was seriously wrong with their child. The next day they tried to recreate what happened previously but this time everything was normal.

“Who’s this Jonno?” Clark asks, pointing at himself.

“Daddy!”

“And this?” Lois asks, pointing at Superman.

Jon stares at the image blankly as if he had no recollection of who it was.

“Who’s this?” Clark points at a picture of Lana.

“Aun’ Lala.”

“And this?” Lois points to a picture of Supergirl.

“...”

“And this?” Lois points to a picture of Batman.”

“...” 

She puts the JLA photo album down and looks at her husband as he puts his own family photo album down. “It’s like he doesn’t remember.”

“I don’t think he does,” Clark responds. “What should we do? We can’t keep ignoring this Lois. What if it happens again?”

“What if it doesn’t? Maybe it’s… maybe he… We- He’s only two! I don’t know what we can do!” She shakes in her seat and takes her baby into her arms. “We can’t leave this alone but I can’t…”

Clark looks down just as distraught as his wife and takes in a deep breath. “We’ll go to Batman first. Then we’ll see where we go from there. If something is wrong we have to know so we can do something about it.”

“I know…” She sobs into her son’s messy black hair as he stares perplexed at whatever is happening around him 

Unfortunately, they never got the opportunity to ask their friend for help because the same day Jason Todd died in a firefly explosion far away from his home. Bruce changed, became more dangerous and reckless. Clark couldn’t leave his son in the hands of his unstable friend. He decided to wait longer and longer soon turned into years. When Bruce took in another child things were better but Clark still didn’t reveal any information to his best friend. 

When Jason came back to life Clark naively thought things were different. Maybe what Jon did years ago was a fluke. It’s been almost three years and there were no other incidents since that time. He knows it was wrong, he knows it was stupid, and he knows he should be better for the safety of his child but he just… He just let it go. 

Then two years later on August eighth when Jon was seven-years-old it all came to a head when he woke up to his son staring at him from the foot of his bed holding his red cape. The man immediately shouted in shock because he didn’t hear him come into his room let alone the boy rummaging into the safe where all of his Superhero stuff was kept. Lois’s eyes snapped open next to him as she shot out of bed and snatched the cape out of her boy’s hands.

Jon jumped where he was standing and his eyes came to life as he scanned his surroundings. “I… Huh?” He says as his sleepy eyes drift to the cloth in his mother’s hands. “Uh… What’s that?”

“It’s a blanket.” She said without missing a beat. “If you wanted an extra blanket you didn’t need to sneak into our room.”

“Oh… I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you. I didn’t even know I did that.” The boy apologizes as he wraps his giraffe onesie tighter around himself. “Actually, it’s kinda warm. I don’t know why I wanted another blanket.”

“It’s okay, you were probably really tired. Here, let’s get you back to bed.” She replies as she looks over her shoulder to her husband. 

That look told him everything he needed to know and what he had to do now. He’s been putting this conversation off for a long time. It’s a recurring flaw of Clark Kent that he always waits too long to do things when it comes to his personal life. He not only needs to tell his son the truth about himself but he needs to take Jonathan to get tested. He needs to know what was going on with his child no matter what it was; His son needed to know what he was. 

It was almost exactly how Clark always imagined telling Jonathan would be like. It was exhilarating yet terrifying to see his son embrace this new life that he’s been launched into. The immediate aftermath of telling Jon was great but it was quickly overthrown by Batman. The man always did have a terrible habit of upstanding him when he least expected it but he can’t even blame his friend this time because the vigilante didn’t even plan to do so. On what he thought was the best day of his son’s life someone else took the forefront in his mind.

The tiny menace known as Damian Al-Ghul.

Superman has had very little interaction with the League of Assassins with the only thing he understands about them is that they’re all obviously assassins. He didn’t know that Bruce slept with one of them and the man himself definitely was startled by the revelation that he was a father to a child in their care. Clark definitely didn’t expect the clearly unstable child and Jonathan to get along.

Actually that’s not correct. Getting along means that they are friendly with one another which is definitely not the case here. He hoped that Jonathan would be a good influence on Damian without having the boy be a negative influence on his son. The last thing he wants is to cause a rift between his and Batman’s friendship because their sons didn’t like each other. They barely managed to survive the disaster that was Jason’s and Kara’s very short-lived friendship.

Clark is extremely biased when it comes to his family. He’s not some perfect flawless being that is able to judge situations without his personal opinions getting in the way so when he saw his son changing he solely blamed Damian for it. It’s not fair to judge a child on the hardship they’ve endured, so he made it a point to always show the boy kindness even when he threw it back in Clark’s face. The hero has no idea why the assassin hates him so much but it’s best not to pry into such situations.

What is worth prying into is HOW IN THE EVER LIVING HECK DID THEY GET INTO A METAHUMAN TRAFFICKING RING AND FIGHT CLUB!? Of all the outcomes, of all the stupid things that boy could have dragged Jon into, of all the situations and villains out there that could have stumbled across his only child it was THAT. He wasn’t even gone the whole two weeks he was supposed to be gone and he could only thank whichever God out there that was watching over him that they’ve managed to get their justice league business done early. He expected to walk into his apartment to his sleeping family but instead, he had to console his rightfully fraught wife and find two lost kids, one of whom may already be dead. Moreover that one maybe dead kid might be their own son!

It only took a few hours afterward, three at most but Superman wasn’t keeping time, to find his son… at the bottom of Gotham harbor… in a van… with two dead bodies. There is an explanation here and none of them are good. Also, Damian is sobbing uncontrollably which is the last thing Superman expects and it’s clear that it’s the same for Batman. As the superheroes take their respective children into their arms it’s clear that something has changed. They couldn’t tell whether it was good or bad but the fact that Jonathan appears to be completely normal is definitely not on the good side of that spectrum. 

When they get back to the manor everyone greets each other in a tear-filled reunion only to be bothered by what they said after everything was said and done. The first thing the broken boy said to everyone was, “I’m sorry.” He apologized to everyone from his family, the Birds of Prey, the Justice League, and Jonathan’s own family. That’s not the thing that bothered them because it was actually a really touching moment for Clark. He didn’t think that the prideful child would say to him was a real genuine apology and he almost forgave him. Almost. He can’t in good conscience accept the apology, after all, that happened to his son because in his mind replays the grainy footage of the same boy slicing into Jon. There was also the issue that Lois Lane was the kind of person to hold onto a grudge until she dies and even in death wouldn’t be able to escape her wrath. 

“I’m glad you’re remorseful for your actions but I’m not going to be able to forgive you.” She explains much to the ten-year-old’s poorly concealed dismay. “You put Jonathan, who is younger than you, into serious danger. Even if you didn’t get taken it was still reckless and dangerous!”

“I understand.”

Lois sighs before softly gazing down at the child. “Are you okay?”

Damian blinks at her confused by the question. “I… How do you define okay?”

“Like, are you hurt in any way?” She elaborates noticing that he’s leaning heavily on his right leg. “And did something… Well, actually it’s a pretty vague question because I heard a lot of bad things happened. I guess okay means whatever you think it does.”

“Oh.” He replies bluntly looking to Jonathan, who was animatedly fawning over the entire Justice League in the middle of the Batcave. “Then no; I am certainly not okay. You… Please, keep him away from me.”

That started Lois and her shocked expression perfectly matches Clark’s own face as he intervenes and inquires the meaning of his statement. He couches down to meet the boy at eye-level and asks, “Why do you need us to keep Jon away from you?”

“Quiet, he’ll hear you!” Damian grits through his teeth as his more forceful demeanor returns to him full force. He pulls Jonathan’s parents closer so that they’ll be able to have some semblance of privacy without making it obvious that anything is amiss. “Your son is a force of nature that won’t stop to be around me and that will only lead to terrible things. He’s… He’s wonderful and if you want him to stay that way you’ll keep him far far away from where he’ll never see me again!”

“Uh…” Lois quirks a brow towards her husband as if he has the answer to the boy’s behavior, but Superman just shrugs causing her to come up with some sort of reply. “We… Sure?” She was planning on doing that anyway so it’s not really much of a request. 

“I don’t think you understand. He’ll do literally anything once he puts his mind to it and no one can say no to him. He won’t allow it!” 

Clark is getting some serious Lois Lane related deja-vu from that statement, but that takes a back seat to his son who snaps his head away from the group of heroes looking over him to smile happily to the three of them. It would have been such a warm and loving smile if it wasn’t for the words coming out of Jonathan’s lips. “Dami, that’s not gonna work.”

The older boy freezes in fear, successfully gathering the attention of his own family on the other side of the cave. He cautiously cranes his neck back to look at the grinning child and does his best to calm the tension in his voice as he questions, “How can you hear me?”

“I can’t!” The blood-stained child chirps excitedly, turning on his heels to face his body to them. “But I know you Dami and that’s not going to work. You’re probably thinking you can fulfill your promise to me without having to be near me. You think my parents can keep me away from you, but that’s not going to go how you think.”

In the back of the cave, Jason leans down to Kara to ask, “Oh my God that’s disturbing. Is this normal for him? I feel like this isn’t normal.”

“Fuck no it’s not normal.” She replies in a frantic whisper while stares at her baby cousin. 

“This is what I’m talking about.” Damian hisses quickly turning back to the parents who are wearing horrified expressions upon their faces.

“Daaaaammmmmiiiiiiiiii~” He calls out skipping towards them only to stop directly in front of his taller friend. “I’m pretty sure trying to keep us apart is hurting me and you said you loved me enough not to hurt me. Did you lie; do you not love me?”

“I’m sorry, what?” Batman questions loudly, thinking exactly what Clark is screaming in his own mind. 

The boy quickly replies, “I did say that and I mean it and that’s why we should really take some time apart and-”

“And you’re making decisions for me again. This-” Jonathan rapidly waves his right pointer finger between the two of them. “Is supposed to be fair. It’s almost as if you don’t _trust_ me.”

“No! Jon, I trust you completely bu-”

“Suuuure you do. That’s totally why you’re going behind my back and making plans with my parents to keep me away.” The boy interrupts with a disappointed sigh. He holds up his right arm and points at it with his left hand. “Do you think I was lying about this?”

“What about your arm, Sport?” Superman asks as they are clearly talking about something only the two of them are aware of. 

He’s ignored, of course, as Damian answers, “Of course I don’t but this is exactly why you need to stay away from me! What else will you be capable of?”

“Not much as long as we don’t do anything.” Jon simply answers, shrugging his shoulders nonchalantly. “Are you going to fight me on this? You know I won’t quit so it’s best to just give up now.”

Damian growls out in frustration and stomps his working leg on the ground and looks as if he was about to strangle the other boy for his insolence. Clark steps in to stop him when instead of a violent attack the assassin pulls the younger in for a hug. Just… It was a normal hug.

“I hate you.”

“I love you too.”

“CAN SOMEONE TELL ME WHAT JUST HAPPENED?!” Nightwings yells having seen the entire interaction from the sidelines and pointing both of his fingers wildly at the duo. “WHEN WAS THIS A THING!? I’VE BEEN TRYING TO GET HIM TO GIVE HUGS FOR ALMOST TWO MONTHS!”

Batman turns to Lois and Clark, who are now standing up straight gaping at the two boys, and in normal Batman, fashion asks, “How much therapy do you think this will take?”

“For us or for them?” Clark fires back immediately as if it was second nature.

“You believe in therapy?” Lois jabs at the same time. 

Bruce turns to them judgmentally as he explains, “I might dress up as a Bat with hoarding issues but that doesn’t mean I don’t see anyone for my troubles. And speaking of trouble, this” He gestures to his child and Jon. “This isn’t going away anytime soon.”

Clark knows the man is right and it’s clear that separating the boy is going to cause more issues than solutions, especially after such a traumatic event. They’re going to have to have a talk with them and find someone that will help them work through their issues whatever they may be. It won’t be an easy task but for his son, he’s willing to do anything. He nods in response as he takes in a deep breath as he thinks about their future. He can’t say it’s looking bright but he does see that they’ll get better.

“So are these hoarding issues about your adoption problem or all the junk you keep in this cave?” Lois asks to fill the silence of the room because she honestly has to know.

Batman doesn’t bother to answer her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Everything is fine for our main characters now but no one is okay. 
> 
> This is one of the two/three parenting chapters I have planned. IDK when the next one will be chapter wise but I do know where it'll be respective to other arcs so look out for those in the far future. 
> 
> I feel like the art at this point is just the world's most boring guessing game called, "What did the author watch/read that influenced her drawing style this time?" Cause that's what happens. Like... I just want to develop a single cohesive art style but I freaking can't. Good thing this is fan fiction and not something I'm posting for professional or monetary purposes. Anyways the picture is mostly the current physical state of the two boys for the next couple of chapters. Jon is physically fine while Damian... He's only human.
> 
> Next week: Jon and Damian explore Metropolis with the "kids." (And by kids I mean Kara, Dick, and Tim)


	19. The Big Apricot!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jonathan finally enters the home of Superman; Metropolis! What fun adventures will he have in the big city?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Be me: Complain about being burnt out by posting two chapters so close to each other.  
> Also Me: Does it again anyways.
> 
> Thanks to my current readers and my new readers, if the kudos tag is anything to go by, for reading and liking my work! I know I keep saying this, but I'm always so surprised and delighted to see this weird thing I use as my creative outlet actually being received well. So thank y'all so much!

Jonathan Samuel Kent is beginning to finally make a friend at his new school. Actually, he thinks the correct term is an acquaintance if he were to ask Damian about it because they aren’t close yet. Georgia is a really nice classmate who always makes an effort to speak to him but never really did anything further than that. Jonathan isn’t going to let that stand because now he has a better chance of making friends now that the youngest Wayne is doing his best to be a better person. That means allowing Jon to expand his friendship circle once more and not intervening. 

When he and Damian are finally allowed to go back to school after a few days of recuperating, which Jon didn’t think he needed, he decides to take the blacktop by storm and make some freaking friends starting with Georgia Bakshi! Five minutes into recess the second-grader immediately heads to the kickball field where his tablemate usually frequents and trots over to his peers with the brightest smile he could muster.

The reaction to his presence is almost immediate as the group of kids freeze and watch him warily. He already expected the cold reaction seeing as he’s already gotten used to it during the past weeks of trying to befriend other kids, but he knows this time it will be different. He takes in a deep breath to rest his buzzing nerves and greets his classmate.

“Hey, Georgia!” 

Much to her credit it only takes her a few seconds to recover and politely acknowledge him back. “Oh, Hi Jon! What’s up?”

Here goes nothing. “Can I join you guys? I really want to play with y’all.”

Brown eyes blink at him before she surprisingly returns his smile. “Sure! We were just about to split into teams so now’s a great time-”

“Wait, G, you can’t be serious.” A boy with curly black hair that appears to be in the same grade as Jonathan interrupts guardedly staring at the taller boy. “I mean… You’re probably nice or whatever but you’re friends with Damian Wayne.”

This is exactly the response he was expecting much to his disappointment however he doesn’t let that emotion show as he continues to beam at the group. “And?”

“And?” The boy repeats looking up at Jon as if he was dumb. “Dude, your friend threatens anyone who goes near you. We know what he did to Liam, and I don’t know about the rest of you but like my bones not broken.”

Liam? Jon doesn’t know a Liam nor does he think he’s ever met this Liam. Was Liam someone who wanted to be his friend because if that’s the case he should probably apologize to them for whatever Damian did. “Who’s Liam?” He asks as he fiddles with the glasses on his face. He doesn’t really need them anymore but he has gotten used to wearing them at school.

A different girl with fluffy pigtails nervously peaks from behind his tan classmate with a confused expression. “Liam Jonhson? You know, one of the richest kids in school?”

“Uh… Everyone is like, super-rich in this school except me.” Jon states with an equally confused face. “What did Dami do to him?”

“Wait, you don’t know?” The girl asks wide-eyed in disbelief before turning around and gesturing to one of the older boys in the group. “Do you still have that video?”

The older boy, most likely a fourth-grader, reaches into his pocket to pull out a smartphone to scroll through it looking for the file. “Yeah, it’s soooommeeeewheeerrr- Ah ha! Found it!” The older boy walks up to Jon with the device in hand and plays an extremely short and shaky video.

Sky blue eyes watch the footage carefully and replay it a few times with a completely unreadable expression on his face. Everyone watches Jon as he scrunches his face before replaying the video one last time and looks back up to everyone. “So…” He begins holding his chin in one hand and resting the other on his hip like a mini sassy detective. “Why did he do it?” They all look around at each other with confused glances but no one answers the boy causing him to continue speaking so that he can get something out of them. “Like, I totally get that was a very bad thing to do and he shouldn’t have done that, but why did he do it?”

“I heard Liam challenged him!” One kid pipes up sending confidence throughout the field making it so that everyone begins shouting what they’ve heard about the fight.

“I heard Liam was defending his little sister!”

“No, that’s not what happened! Liam was making fun of Gotham and Damian kicked his butt! Metropolis for life!”

“That’s stupid! It’s because Damian was threatening his standing! The Waynes are richer than the Jonhson’s and-”

“That’s crazy! It was because the girl Liam had a crush on flirted with Damian-”

“No way, Liam just got beat up because he finally messed with someone tougher than him. It was karma!”

“So no one knows.” Jon concluded aloud crossing his arms judgmentally at everyone. 

They all stop their hypothesizing and converse with hushed whispers before Georgia turns to speak with the answer in which they’ve come to a consensus. “Yeah, none of us have any idea.”

“I see… And besides the threats, no one in this school will play with me because you all think Damian Wayne will break your bones.” He asks exasperatedly rubbing the temples of his head in the same manner his friend does when he has to point something silly out. 

“I… uh…” The curly hair boy stutters out then nods affirmatively. 

“Is that the  _ ONLY  _ thing stopping you guys from playing kickball with you?”

The pigtailed girl glances at the group who all nod at her quietly and she replies back. “I guess?”

“Okay then. I can fix that, like, right now.” Jon asserts confidently as he cranes his neck back, and cups his palms around his mouth hollering to the bleachers across the field. “DAAAAAAAAAAAAMMMMIIIIIIIII!” 

“WHAAAAT!?” The older boy shouts furiously back causing the group to realize that someone was actually there. How did they not notice him?

“CAN YOU COME HERE! I NEED TO ASK YOU SOMETHING!?”

Even from this far away distance, Jonathan can tell that the boy is extremely annoyed at having to pause his sketching for whatever the other needed him for. Fortunately, it’s not enough to make him outright refuse his loud request, and begrudgingly makes his way to where Jon was standing. The group instantly become paralyzed in fear before it melts into bewilderment as they notice the injured state the infamous Damian Wayne is in. His face is scarred, leg in a heavy brace, and while none of the children are completely sure about it he looks… not as hostile as they imagined. 

“Jonathan, what could you have possibly needed from me that you interrupt my progress?” He groans holding up his sketchbook with graphite stained fingers. 

The boy in question rolls his eyes, shocking everyone watching at the sheer audacity, as he replies. “Do you know a Liam Jonhson?”

Damian stares at his friend and with complete honesty answers, “I have no idea who that is.”

“Well, you broke his legs and arms, and-- actually let’s just say you broke him.”

“Emotionally?”

“Maybe.” Jon shrugs pointing at the boy with the smartphone, who flinches at being singled out. “He has a video going all ninja on this older kid named Liam. Do you remember why you did it?”

The corner of the youngest Wayne’s eye tenses as he does his best to recall who Jon is talking about when his memories come back to him. “Ah, I remember it now. I did do that.” He declares in the same tone someone would use to describe remembering what they ate the previous day. “The sixth-grader was furious at me for rejecting his sister’s proposal and tried to… how did he put it? ‘Teach me a lesson.’”

“Hold up.” Jon pouts agitatedly. “Proposal? Like… Like marriage? Cause none of us are old enough and that’s gross.”

“-Tt- That would be a different kind of ridiculous,” Damian reassures crossing his arms. “No, she wanted me to join their little group that is apparently exclusive to those of the upper echelon of society to raise their status within the aristocracy.”

The younger boy scratches his head and sighs exasperatedly. “Dami, I don’t know what you’re saying.”

“In layman’s terms, it means she wanted me to join her posse to look better to her wealthy parents. It’s all obviously about connections.” He shrugs. “Is that all? That was weeks ago.”

“Did you ever apologize to Liam?” 

“What.” The boy blurts out unintentionally at the suggestion. “Why ever would I do that? If anything he should be groveling at my feet for forgiveness at his insolence.”

“Oh my gosh Dami, no.” Jon sighs again, fixing his glasses again even though they were perfectly in place. “You know what, we’ll save that conversation for later. Can you tell these guys that you’re not going to break their bones?”

“Why would I break their bones?” He asks completely perplexed at the odd inclination that he would just randomly break the bones of these assortments of children before him. “Did they do something that merits me pulverizing every limb in their body?”

Jon shakes his head. “No, and that’s why you need to tell them that. They think that you’re going to hurt them for playing with me.”

“Death was never a threat I used. In all honesty Jonathan, all I ever really did was glare daggers and promise death with my eyes. I never made any verbal threats.”

“That… That doesn’t make it better.”

“I’m not doing it anymore but if it will make you happy I’ll comply.”

“You shouldn’t do it just for that reason but I’ll save that talk for later too,” Jon explains turning to the group who are all awkwardly staring at the duo. 

Damian faces them with a bored expression and in a completely monotone voice says, “I promise to not break any of your bones for something as trivial as playing games with him. Can I go?”

Jon looks at his peers and remarks, “That’s the best you’re going to get from him, but I promise he’s telling the truth. Can I play kickball with you guys now?” 

Georgia blinks her brown eye at him in awe at whatever just happened before her and picks up a red rubber ball from the ground next to her sneakers. She doesn’t even look at her friends behind her as she tosses the sphere at Jonathan, who catches it easily, and replies. “Good enough for me. Lose the uniform jacket; you’re on my team.”

Jon ecstatically hugs the ball tightly to his chest in joy as he sprints closer to the group finally, for the first time since he’s moved to Metropolis, able to play with other kids. He waves good-bye to his friend as the older boy retreats back to the metal bleachers the two usually frequented previous weeks, who doesn’t respond as he already reverted his focus to his book. That was fine because Jon knows that this small change in their routine is already such an achievement for both of them and more will come in the future. 

A week later Jonathan is determined to accomplish another achievement for himself by actually exploring his home outside of his tiny apartment. He hasn’t conquered school quite yet but he’s making progress. Plus he’s not allowed to go to his Treehouse for the foreseeable future because he and Damian are grounded for going to Blüdhaven. He doesn’t really have anything to do around the weekends anymore. If he’s going to explore the city of Superman then he can’t do it alone. 

He gets up on his tip-toes to wiggle his arm around the counter to search for his father’s cell phone and inches it closer to himself with great difficulty until it’s close enough for him to grab. Jon swipes open the device with no trouble at all because of the lack of any passcode or protection and scrolls through the contacts until he sees the name, Wayne.

The fluffy-haired child has never used his father’s phone to call Damian before because when he needed to call him he used the landline; something they don’t have here. Clark Kent did say that his son could use his phone whenever he needed something and Jon wholly believes that this counts as a necessity. He ogles at the screen confusingly because there was more than one Wayne in the contact list and Jonathan doesn’t know any phone number. He remembers that his mother used to make him memorize the number of the local police and her own when he was younger but they’ve moved and Jon forgot the other one. 

So like all of Jon’s good ideas in life he wings it and picks the number in the middle of the list as he waits for the other line to pick up. After about five rings the dial tone stops letting the impatient child know that someone has answered his call. “Hello, Mr. Pennyworth? This is Jonathan, can I pretty please talk to Damian?”

“Uh…” A lighter pitched voice that was definitely not British nor Alfred replies. “Hi Jon, this is Tim.”

“Oh, sorry!” Jon apologies with an embarrassed rosy blush forming high on his cheeks. “Hi Tim! Can you hand the phone over to Dami? I just want to ask him something really quick.”

There’s shuffling on the other end and the click of a door opening as shouting in the distance enters his ears. “IS THIS A FLAIL!? AN HONEST TO GOD FLAIL!? And- and oh my gosh Damian is this a katar?!”

“I don’t see the problem here Grayson. I am already complying with your request to confiscate my entire arsenal meaning that these extra rantings are meaningless.” 

“Damian no, there are so many issues with this!” 

“Hey Gremlin, Jon wants to talk to you!” Tim hollers from what sounds like across the hall.

More shuffling sounds later Damian lets out an indignant huff away from the receiver, “Do you mind giving us some privacy?”

“Yeah- no. B told us you’re not allowed to talk to Jonathan over the phone alone. One of us has to supervise.” The teenager explains sounding just as annoyed as his little brother about the situation.

“Grayson is already here, villein.” The younger Wayne hisses with the wrath of a rattlesnake emanating from every syllable. 

Tim sighs tiredly at the child and Jon can feel his eyes rolling from his home several states away. “Wow, you’re starting to get real Oldschool with those insults. And Dick is too busy trying to move that… Is that an iron maiden? That’s not even an authentic medieval torture device; why do you have that? How did you get that?”

Damian waves off the clear concern in the older boy’s voice. “Need not worry about it, he is already getting rid of it.”

“I’m gonna keep worrying about it because it’s perfectly  _ me-sized _ .”

Once again, Tim’s concern is ignored but this time he doesn’t bother replying to him and answers the phone instead. “Jonathan?”

“Uh… Hi Dami.” Jon greets reluctantly feeling as though he’s encroaching on something important. “Is this a bad time?”

“Not at all. If anything this is a perfect time for you to call.” The older boy reassures his friend holding the phone closer to his face so that the small child can hear him better. “As you have most likely concluded I am honoring our agreement and getting rid of all the paraphernalia you deemed as ‘bad.’”

“Hurting people with weapons is pretty bad, but I’ll miss randomly seeing your sword in weird places.” He laments thinking back on the times he stumbled upon the object in their clubhouse. Sure, the thing stabbed him but he doesn’t think that’s a big of a deal as everyone seems to have been making it out to be. He’s healed now so everything should be fine. 

“... One moment.” Damian announces turning his head away from the phone making him sound further away to Jon. “GRAYSON, PUT BACK THE KATANA! JONATHAN SAID I COULD KEEP IT!”

“NO!” The eldest Wayne shouts back firmly as the screeching of metal dragging against wood recedes into the distance. 

Damian shrugs and reverts his attention back to Jonathan. “I’ll settle that later.”

“Gremlin, no.” Tim scolds but is obviously ignored.

“Now, what was the reason for this call?”

“Oh, well I wanted to explore Metropolis tomorrow and wanted you to come with me. Kara already said she’d take me so your dad doesn’t have to worry about anything.” The boy explains cheerfully swaying back and forth on his heels. “If you can’t then it’s fine but I just wanted to see you outside of school and since we’re not allowed to use the teleporters or go to the Fortress of Attitude I thought it would be cool. Plus we don’t get to do a lot of stuff together now that I think about it and it’s not superhero related, and I’ve never left my apartment for anything besides school or the treehouse and since I can’t do one of those things anymore I was hoping-”

“You don’t have to explain yourself, Jonathan. When and Where should I meet you?” He inquires eagerly to the point of interrupting Jonathan mid-ramble. The littlest Kent didn’t know whether he was eager because of the prospect of seeing each other outside of school or to stop the beginning of a tangent; either way, he’s glad that Damian agreed.

“Oh… Uh… I forgot. Hold on a sec.” He turns away from the phone and looks to the couch where Kara and his Mom are watching a late-night talk show and asks, “Kara, what time are we going and where should Dami meet us?”

“How about around 10 o’clock tomorrow morning at the train station? You know, the one next to the Planet?” She suggests in a manner that tells Jon the twenty-two-year-old hasn’t thought much about it either. 

“Around 10 o’clock at the train station next to where my parents work?” Jon repeats into the receiver of his father’s phone in a tone that is more reminiscent of a question rather than an answer.

“That should be fine. It’ll take me a while to get there seeing as the helicopter is reserved for school so if I make the 6 o’clock bullet train from Gotham to Metropolis I’ll make it there before the allotted time.”

“Okay-” Jon begins to agree when Dick Grayson’s voice enters the conversation. 

“Wait a second. Tim, were you just going to allow Damian to make plans to take the train alone all the way to Metropolis?” The man asks with an astounding demeanor. 

“I don’t see the problem. He’s going to hang out with Jon and Kara will meet him there so it’s not like I’m just leaving him alone.” The teen describes calmly, clearly not seeing the problem with the proposition.

Dick sighs at his little brother and explains, “Tim, you can’t let him do that. Kids shouldn’t be left alone to travel to a large city without adult supervision! Why do you think that’s okay?”

“... I mean… I did it and I’m fine.” Tim says in a disconcerting manner. 

“... You know, I see where I went wrong asking you that. That’s my bad.” The man apologies before going to talk to his even littler brother. “Dami, I’m going with you tomorrow.”

“-Tt- Don't call me that, and why? It’s already bothersome that the alien is joining us. You’ll just add more trouble.” Damian complains sounding his age. “How come Cain never watches me? At least she’s quiet.”

“Okay, first of all, you’re not allowed to call people aliens. Second of all, you don’t get a say in this. It’s either I join you or I get Jason to watch you; Trust me after what you pulled with him you really don’t want him watching you especially with Kara involved. And third of all Cassandra has dance class and is also a kid meaning she can’t. ”

“Fine.” He huffs then growls into the phone obviously displeased by the turn of events. “Jonathan, Grayson will be joining us.”

“That’s fine. The more the merrier!” Jon says happily not minding the extra company one bit.

“So are we only going to be wandering the city or are there any planned activities?”

“Hmmm, I dunno.” He turns to his older cousin. “Kara, what are we doing?”

“Whatever we feel like!” She shouts from the couch.

“Whatever-”

“I heard. Is that all you needed from me?” Damian asks.

“Yep! I’ll see you tomorrow then, bye Dami! Bye Tim! Bye Dick!” All three boys return his goodbye with varying degrees of politeness before hanging up on him and Jon puts the phone back up on the counter before trotting over to the living area to sit on his mother’s lap. “Is it over yet?”

“Nope.” Lois sighs, popping the P in the negative word. “Don’t worry, Beauty and the Beast is up next.”

“The live-action one or the good one?” Kara asks resting her cheek on her fist as her elbow lays on the arm of the rustic style loveseat. 

“I like Snow White better,” Jon states as he rests his head on his mother’s collarbone. 

The older girl giggles and ruffles the boy’s fluffy hair. “Of course you do; you kind of look like her. Skin white as snow, lips red as blood, and hair black as ebony.”

“Hey, in his defense his lips are only red when he eats cherry popsicles.” Jon’s mother defends patting his shoulder.

Or actual blood but Jon doesn’t say that. His family was already upset when about everything else that happened. He doesn't want to upset them more by explaining that he’s tasted blood before. “I thought the quote was ‘lips red as roses?’”

The young adult shrugs. “That’s the Disney version. The original is really messed up.”

“Kara, don’t encourage him.” Clark Kent lectures, walking out of his room in his red plaid pajamas. “He’s going to go look it up and you’ll be responsible for the nightmares.”

“Oh, he’s going to freak when I tell him about The Little Mermaid.”

“Kara!” Lois gasps as she playfully kicks her shin. “At least wait till he’s older.”

The man shakes his head fondly as he squeezes between his wife and cousin, not an easy feat due to how broad he is, to watch the television. “Cozy, ain’t it?”

“More like tight!” The brunette breaths as she lifts herself and Jon up to move onto her husband’s lap. “There. Now I can breathe.”

Clark rearranges himself to give Kara more room and chuckles at his family. “Hey now, I’m not a chair.”

“You take up enough room as one.” Lois chuckles kissing him on the cheek much to their son’s revulsion.

“Eeeeewww.” He groans disgustedly, sticking his tongue out in retaliation. “Why do you have to be so gross in front of me? You have a room.”

Kara mimics his disgust before grinning at his reaction. “Awww, don’t worry Jonno. You’ll understand when you’re older and in looove~!” She smacks her lips together in exaggeratedly wet kissy noises to further mock the couple next to her as they roll their eyes. “Mwah mwah mwah mwah!

“Real mature.” Clark scoffs fixing his glasses. “You’re supposed to be an adult.”

“Lies I tell you. I’m not an adult, I still order off the kids’ menu, and until they tell me to stop I’m still a kid.” She elaborates definitely.

“I love a lot of people and I don’t want to kiss them.” Jon pouts still grossed out.

“And it will stay like that until you’re thirty,” Clark affirms rubbing his son’s tousled hair. 

Lois rolls her lavender eyes at her spouse’s ridiculousness and slaps him on his thick bicep. “Oh come off it Smallville. You can’t expect him to wait that long; especially since you started dating in high school.”

“Yeah, and I bet Lana has some middle school crush stories she’ll be more than glad to share,” Kara adds daringly.

The man throws his head back in defeat just as the movie comes on to play much to the younger two’s delight. “Oh thank God, it’s the good one!” The older of the two cheer while Jon is just happy he doesn’t have to listen to some random talk show host for another minute. 

The next day Jonathan got up bright and early shaking in his already put on shoes, his normal Heelys, and practically vibrating so fast Lois might’ve believed that the boy was a speedster if it wasn’t for the fact she gave birth to him. She straps the boy into his Superman backpack with the leash and fixes up his glasses. “I don’t know why you want to wear these, they make you look like a huge dork.”

“But these are Dad’s.”

“I know, that’s the dork I’m talking about.” 

Jon holds the sides of his scarlet glasses tightly and smiles up at his mother. “I’m just used to it, besides, Damian likes them.”

The woman blinks at her son with an unreadable expression but still manages a strained smile. “I see… Did he tell you that?”

The boy shakes his head quickly from side to side. “No, but he tells me not to take them off when we’re at school. He hasn’t said it recently but it just feels right. Ya know?”

“I… Okay?” She answers in a way Jon doesn’t understand but he doesn’t try to look into it. He knows that his mom doesn’t like his friend very much and doesn’t want to push her in any way to make her dislike him more. Lois looks to the living area where Kara is still sleeping despite everyone else being awake and walks over to wake her. “Come on, rise, and shine. Didn’t you live on the Kent’s farm for a bit; you should like mornings.”

“Urrrrrgggghhhh.” She moans sickly from her throat as Lois walks over to the patio to pull the curtains wide open. 

“Kara wakey-wakey eggs and bakey!” Jon screams jumping atop the older girl with enough force to unlatch the pullout bed with them causing the couch to fold in on itself with the duo still inside. “Aaaaaahhhhhh!”

With her superstrength, she immediately straightens herself up to kick the spring mattress back in place while holding her baby cousin away from being squashed. Unfortunately, her palm hit the blue and red panic button on Jon’s belt causing a painful sound only Kryptonians could hear along with another more normal alarm sound to go off simultaneously. Within five seconds flat Superman burst through the open balcony door with Superwoman following close behind who are both prepared for battle. Instead of danger, they find a panicked twenty-something holding up Jon like Simba from the Lion King over the couch while Lois lets out a sigh of relief at being able to open the door before it is smashed.

“At least we know the panic button works.” She chuckles walking over to her son and pressing the button again to silence the device.

“Ow, everything hurts,” Kara whines as he puts the boy down and rubs her ears.

Lana sighs fondly as she rubs her godson’s head. “I’m guessing there’s no emergency?”

“Kara wouldn’t wake up. Is that an emergency?” Jon asks, giving his aunt’s leg a hug. “Good morning Auntie.” 

“Good Morning Jonno.”

“That’s an emergency, just not a super one.” Clark laughs nervously as he glances at the mess he made in his apartment. 

Lois shakes her head as she fixes the flowing drapes and the papers that are now strewn everywhere in the apartment. “False alarm. Kara pressed it on accident, but on the bright side we know what not to do.”

“Sorry, I didn’t see it was there.” Kara keens rubbing her eyes. “In my defense, we still have another hour before we actually have to be up.”

Superman quickly cleans up the mess before his wife could get a single paper off the floor and hands the stack to her. “Is this about the Manhattan Project Exhibit or the SpeedForce research?”

“Speedforce,” Lois confirms casually. “The Star Labs branch in Metropolis is finally letting journalists into their facility for whatever they were doing and Perry wants me on it. Says that I’m more likely to survive if something goes wrong thanks to a certain man in red and blue.”

“Don’t go jinxing it Lois, you know how our luck is.” Clark jokes with a bit of a serious bit in his tone. He turns to Kara and Jon, who are both up and standing in the kitchen while Superwoman makes them toaster waffles, and tells them, “Just in case, don’t be near Star Labs.”

“I’ll make sure to keep Jon safe.” Kara yawns while Jon gives his dad a single firm nod and thumbs up.

“Good.” He nods in return before gesturing to his childhood friend. “We better get back to patrol.”

“Yeah, yeah.” She agrees casually, still waiting for the frozen waffles to cook. “Superspeed has ruined me. Everything feels like it takes forever knowing I could fly to Paris for some real breakfast and back before these things char.”

“Can you do that for me?” Lois asks with a completely serious demeanor.

“Lois, no.” Clark scolds.

“Lois yes.”

Lana laughs and shakes her head. “I would but I don’t have any euros. I bet the boy scout here wouldn’t let me take some freebies.”

“Because it’s a misuse of our trust and powers.” 

“Well, if I find some spare euros I’ll know who to call first.” Lois teases her husband on the lips causing Jon to gag from their tiny kitchen. “Have a good day, I’ll see you in the office for lunch later.”

“Will do Lois.” He replies giving her a peck back just as the waffles pop out of the cheap little toaster.

The ponytailed redhead plucks them from the heated slots and tosses one to each of the children waiting at the counter. “Here ya go. I’m off!”

“Bye Lana, bye Clark!”

“Bye-bye!” Jon waves as the two heroes leave the apartment, making sure not to cause as much of a mess as they did when they entered. 

“Okay, you two.” Lois begins as she puts her work down on the small coffee table that was pushed to the side to make room for the bed. “Now that you’re both awake and fed we can put the living room back together and prepare to head out.”

The three of them set the apartment back to its original state and get ready to head out as Kara changes out of her pajamas into more casual clothes, olive-colored pants, and a flowy white top to keep her cool on this pleasantly warm October day. Jonathan meanwhile, after brushing his teeth, drapes himself upside down over the edge of the patterned brown loveseat while kicking his feet impatiently. Lois is the first of them to head out of the home so that she can make it to work on time but not before slapping a rough kiss on her son’s cheek to his chagrin. 

Kara finishes putting on her make-up, some lipstick and a bit of light brown eyeshadow, as she ties her attempts to tie her hair in a bun disastrously. She quits the endeavor seeing as her thick hair refuses to bend to her will so she just opts to leave it in a ponytail after several hair-bands were sacrificed in vain. It was 9 o’clock when everything was said and done as the two head to the lobby of the apartment. 

For the first time in Jon’s life, he finally gets to see the main area of his apartment, something he has never witnessed before due to him only leaving the place via his father’s truck. It was very shiny and reminded him of the hotel lobbies he’s seen on television. He’s never stayed at a real hotel before but he imagined that they would have the same cream marbled floors and a clean front desk as this one did. He sees people entering the front sliding glass door after sliding what looks to be a room key card which confuses the boy greatly as he doesn’t remember ever having one of those on him. 

Kara picks up on her little cousin’s mild distress and reaches into her pocket to show him the same card everyone else is using. “See this, it’s what you use to get into the building to show that you live here. Your mom gave this one to me so you wouldn’t be locked out.”

“Oh. It’s weird.” Jon states looking up at the plastic with his wide blue eyes. “Dad uses a real key to get into our apartment.”

“The key is what he uses to get into the home but the card is what he uses to get into the parking garage and building. Double the security, ya know?”

He doesn’t know but the boy nods his head vigorously anyways as to not feel dumb. Kara leads him by the leash, getting some odd looks from bystanders on the way out, as they begin walking to the train station. Even though he’s only taken a few steps into Metropolis he can already tell it’s nothing like the view from his window as he looks up at the pristine silver and white skyscrapers above. It wasn’t as dark as Gotham, nor was it as dense as Blüdhaven. Metropolis felt airy and bright due to the wide roads giving plenty of room between the numerous towers above them. This also meant that the sky is more visible allowing the sun to shine brightly over every corner of the city. 

There was very little litter unlike the other sprawling metropolises, pun intended, Jonathan had visited before and even his extremely brief encounter with Central City was nothing compared to the sheer size of everything. Even the small shops were several stories tall and shining white with pristine. The sun bounced off the clean surfaces in a manner that was utterly blinding causing the boy to slap his palms over his glasses to keep himself sane.

“What’s wrong?” His cousin asks, stopping in her tracks to attend to the child in her care.

“I- it’s really bright,” Jon complains as he steps behind the girl’s shadow. “My eyes hurt.”

Kara looks around her, clearly not bothered by her surroundings, and uses her hands to help shade the boy’s eyes. “I guess it’s a bit sunny out, but that’s never bothered you before.”

“It’s not this bright in my apartment or my dad’s pick-up.”

“Ah.” She says victoriously finding the source of his problems. “Your windows are pretty tinted so I guess that makes sense. People from Gotham usually react the same way when they visit.”

“Bu’ I’m not from Gotham.”

Kara shrugs as she repositions Jonathan’s hands in a way where it would shield him from the sun while also allowing him to see ahead of him. “Yeah but you’re also not from Metropolis. It takes some time to get used to but once it happens it’ll be completely normal.”

The boy pouts unsatisfactory and asks, “How long did it take you?”

“Mmm?” She hums reminiscing about her past. “I didn’t take any time at all. My home before coming here was made of the most polished of metals and luminescence that were known to have blinded thousands from orbit. Light doesn’t phase my eyes as it does for many others.” 

Jon glances at his cousin but doesn’t say anything about the melancholy eyes adorned upon her complexion. It’s clear that it hurts to talk about even though she’s smiling. He’s never heard Kara talk about Krypton before because for years the secret of his ancestry was hidden from him, but if he were to ask anyone about his heritage it would be her. Jon doesn’t know if he wants to know about Krypton yet because he’s still trying to wrap his head around the world he recognizes. 

It takes a while for them to get to the station next to the daily planet but they eventually make it there without any hassle. Jon’s not even a bit tired after walking so many city blocks, but then again the seven-year-old didn’t really walk any of that distance. Shortly after leaving the area his building was located he lazily decided to have Kara drag him by the leash while he leisurely rolls along on his wheeled shoes. 

The globe of the Daily Planet loomed over them as if the structure was watching them and Jon naively tried to see if he could spot his mom through the numerous windows of the skyscraper. Of course, Jonathan only has two superpowers, neither of which involve seeing far distances, so his efforts were for naught. He points his small finger up at the beige building and states, “Mom and Dad work there!”

“Yes they do Jonno!” She looks up to where he was pointing and lifts her own hand to do the same. “There they are! On the twenty-first floor!”

“I thought Dad was doing patrol with Aunt Lana.” He speaks trying to count up to twenty-one to find where they are.

“Morning patrol usually doesn’t take too long. Besides, it looks like he just finished.” Kara states as they head inside a shiny sliver outing that was the train station. She swipes a train card along the top turnstile in front of the top of the machine allowing the two of them to pass through unimpeded. Jon accidentally smacks his chin into the rotating bar but other than that the event was rather boring for his first time at a train station. 

He was extremely excited to see the speeding carts fly by him so quickly that he could barely keep his feet on the ground. Jon concludes this is why they call the vehicles bullet trains because of how fast they are and their shape. He would know, he was shot in the head once. After squeezing by various groups of people, many of whom gave them odd looks thanks to the leash backpack, they make it to a platform that has the words ‘GOTHAM’ at the top in bold white letters. The Kryptonian duo sits on a sleek metal bench that feels hot underneath Jonathan thanks to the sun, but doesn’t burn them thanks to their genetics, and waits for Damian and Dick to arrive.

About ten minutes later a sleek black bullet train, something very odd seeing how all the other trains were white with a stripe of color, pulled into the station. Jon stops kicking his legs in his seat and runs to the entrance but is stopped by the leash on his back. Kara reels him in like a fish as the doors open and a mass of people enter Metropolis like water spilling from flood gates. Several of the passengers immediately blind themselves in the same manner Jonathan did previously as they get off the rail. The playful boy bounces impatiently waiting for his friend because even though he saw him yesterday at school it feels more exciting seeing them outside of it.

Finally, after what felt like forever to the second-grader, he sees Dick Grayson in the crowd which means that Damian should be right next to him. “Kara! Kara, I see them!” Jon proclaims loudly in a way only a child could as he taunts the line on his person trying to run to them. 

“That’s great Jon, but we have to stay back here. We don’t want to get caught up with the people getting on the train.” Kara explains holding the leash tighter and standing to her feet. “Once they get closer we can meet them halfway.”

“Okay!” He agrees not actually listening to her and instead of waiting he steps onto the steel bench and cups his hands over his mouth shouting. “DIIIIIIICK! DIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIICK! DICK, OVER HERE! DIIIIIIIIIC-!”

Kara immediately covers his mouth and yanks him into her strong arms with a humiliating red flush as the civilians around them stop, and stare at the little boy cheerfully screaming a profanity in the open. “Jon, you can’t say that!”

“Oh.” He says thinking she’s talking about raising his voice in public. “I’ll be quieter.”

“That is NOT the problem!” She hisses embarrassingly as her eyes dart over the judgemental crowd. Kara presses her cousin closer to her chest and scampers away to where she can see the eldest Wayne sibling heading for the exit. 

Jonathan dangles helplessly in the air as the blonde practically steamrolls out of the station with everything but her superspeed in use. “Weeeee~!” He cheers muffledly beneath Kara’s palm as he’s carried along for a short ride until he sees the older man next to both of his younger brothers. He didn’t know that Tim was going to be joining them but he’s never one to complain about more company before. “Hi!”

“Oh, hey you two.” Dick greets back putting his phone away in his pocket. “I was just about to call to see where you were-”

“Why did your name have to be a damn profanity!” Kara growls putting her baby cousin down to shake the man by the collar of his maya blue turtleneck tank top. “You had him screaming Dick in the station!”

He puts his hands up in a defensive position and pleads, “Please put me down, it’s not my fault society made my name like that!”

“Pathetic.” Damian spits at his elder brother’s flimsy backbone.

With a gigantic smile, Jon hops over to his friend and envelopes him in a big hug. “Hi Dami!”

The older boy sighs but doesn’t contest the affection like he used to and pats the shorter boy gingerly on the head like a dog. “Hello, Jonathan.”

With a satisfied nod, Jon turns his head to Tim who is obviously feeling extremely awkward and out of place. “Hi Tim! I didn’t know you were going to be here! Do you want to explore with us?”

The closed-off teenager rubs his arm nervously while shifting his weight side to side. “Not really. I was just going to visit the Metropolis Museum of History and Technology alone for a bit but-”

“But I’m not going to let him wander around alone.” Dick finishes as he’s put down on the sidewalk. “I hope you don’t mind. I know I didn’t talk about it with you beforehand but-”

“No I get it,” Kara says excitedly wrapping the end of Jonathan’s leash tighter around her right hand. “Actually I’ve been meaning to take Jon there one day and since we don’t have anything planned now would be a great time.”

“Oh yeah, that’s where the Superman exhibit is located.” The man comments instinctively grabbing onto Damian’s shoulder. 

Kara lightheartedly rolls her eyes and corrects the man on his outrageous error. “Noooo, that’s where the  **Krypton** Exhibit is.”

“Riiiiiiight, because those are  _ totally  _ isolated.” He laughs playfully, wincing slightly when she jabs him in the shoulder. “Alright, alright, I’m sorry. Lead the way!”

The group marches off with joyful spirits as they make their way to the museum and the older two chat leisurely while the younger three boys talk amongst themselves. “So Tim,” Jon begins as Damian intertwines their fingers together. “Did you want to see the Krypton exhibit? Do they not have museums in Gotham? Is that all you wanted to do here?” 

“There are plenty of museums in Gotham but right now they have an exhibit on the Manhattan Project in Metropolis that I was interested in.” He explains leisurely crossing his arms over his red polo shirt. “Other than that I don’t really have any plans so I guess I’m just stuck with you guys.”

“And the world is a worse place for it,” Damian says glaring at the male.

“Watch it Gremlin.” Tim hisses through his teeth at the child with an equally vicious glare.

Obviously not sensing the dangerous tension between the two Jon uses his free hand to grab onto the side of the teenager’s khaki shorts and beams up at him. “That’s okay! We can all have fun together!”

Tim smiles down fondly at Jon and agrees with him. “Of course we will.”

The five of them are only a few blocks away from their destination when they pass by the LexCorp tower that is currently having parts of it under construction. Dick whistles at the damage done to the top floors of the structure in awe. “Wow, you and Lana sure did a number on it.”

“And Krypto. Never forget Krypto.” She adds in following his line of sight. 

“How could I forget him?” He gasps in mock offense at himself. “Krypto is the best of all of you.”

“Exactly.” She agrees before flinching at the more battle-worn parts of the construction. “It usually doesn’t get this bad but we got the news about Jon and Damian and we just… Well, you can see it.”

“I don’t blame you,” Tim says as he watches the construction workers replace the famous red X of the tower’s logo. “It’s pretty hard to feel bad for the guy.”

They continue to the museum without any more unplanned stops as they climb the tall steps to the entrance of the sleek modern designed building. As they walk through the doors it’s clear to Jonathan that this isn’t the kind of museum with boring paintings he always sees in movies. In the main lobby alone there are several old fashion large rusty ships displayed in a glass case. “What’s that!?”

Tim looks at the display and reads the placard next to it answering, “It’s a display talking about the industries that began Metropolis’ economy in its early years.”

“Metropolis is known for boats?” Jon asks in wonderment because all he knew about Metropolis was that Superman protected it. 

“Not exactly. The Big Apricot was actually a port city founded to help let in immigrants from all over the world making it the first destination for many families who come here from overseas. These are some of the boats produced in the city to help ship refugees from war-torn countries to the states.” Tim summarizes turning back to the child. “That’s why there are so many foreign embassies in Metropolis as well.” 

“Wow!” He breaths in awe looking at the ships. He didn’t understand all of it but it sounds like those boats helped a lot of people. “That’s amazing!”

“Gosh, it’s like this place was made for Supers.” Dick jokes nudging Kara in the arm.

“I can’t even argue with you cause you’re right.” She laughs, pulling Jon and the other two young boys by extension along to the exhibits they were here for. “I think they still have my own pod on display next to Clark’s.”

Tim lets go of Jonathan’s hand and tries to shuffle away from the group. “So, I’m just going to head to my thing while you guys do yours and we'll meet up later.” He makes it three steps before his older brother captures his wrist in a vice grip. 

“Not so fast there Tiny Tim!”

“I’m average height-”

“No going alone.” He states pulling the boy closer. “The Manhattan Project isn’t going anywhere. You can look at failed bombs all you’d like later but for now, we’re going to look at the Superman-”

“Krypton.”

“Krypton exhibit.” 

“That is an egregious description of the Manhattan Project,” Tim says disgusted by the representation. 

Dick smiles and waves off his brother’s offense as he drags him off in a random direction. “Whatever, I’ll learn more about it when we see it; That’s what museums are for. To Krypton!”

“Other way!” Kara calls out.

“In the other direction!” He shouts turning heel towards the actual exhibit. 

The Krypton exhibition presented itself more like a childhood dreamland for Jonathan completely with an enormous Superman-themed indoor playground and a small Superman gift shop. The eldest Wayne chuckles in Kara’s direction as he sneers at the display before them. “Ya sure this isn’t a Superman exhibit?”

“Shut up before I throw you into the sun.”

“It’s pretty empty in here for a Saturday, don’t you think?” Tim points out gesturing to the completely barren museum. 

Dick tilts his head looking around only now noticing how strange the situation feels. “Yeah, not that you mention it…”

“Kara, Kara!” Jon cries pulling in his cousin’s white blouse. “Can Dami and I play on the playground!?”

“Don’t you want to check out some of the cool stuff around here first? There’s an entire display about Argo!” She tries to convince but the child is too mystified by the enormous play area to really care.

“Playground.” Is all he has to say for the girl to slump over in defeat. Dejectedly she unclips the leash from her cousin’s body and the two boys run off to explore the plastic and metal jungle gym. 

Dick pats her shoulder comfortingly as he tries to lighten the situation. “Don’t worry, it says here that they have lots of facts about Krypton on the playground. Jon and Damian will learn something about it there.”

“Shut up, Dick.”

“Don’t be mean. Tim, and I will indulge you while they play in the center.” 

The two take off their shoes at the spaceship themed cubby before entering the play area and Jon looks down at Damian’s braced right leg with concern. “Are you going to be okay?”

The older boy shrugs as he delicately places his leather loafer in the holes. “I don’t see why not. It’s not like I’m going to strain my injury, and besides, I’ve done much more dangerous obstacles with more severe injuries.”

Jon doesn’t even bat an eye at that statement because he already knows that his friend is different than most kids he knows. The younger boy leads the way as they crawl in a red plastic tunnel to the inside of a fake spaceship with a spacious trampoline in the center. Without hesitation, the two boys run and leap onto the springs and bounce around widely; Jon just repeating the same jumping motion while Damian does a series of increasingly complicated flips.

Outside from a plastic window, their three older chaperones see this from where they were standing in front of the Kandor display and the oldest begins cheering them on before remembering he was the adult. “Damian, stop that right now! You’re going to hurt yourself!”

Damian doesn’t stop and instead looks the older man directly in his sapphire blue eyes and does a backflip while maintaining solid eye contact. Tim and Kara double over laughing at the sheer disrespect and have to stop the man from storming inside the playground in a fit of passion. Jon, completely inattentive to what was happening, only seeing his friend do another cool trick, attempts to do the same, to completely disastrous results. Instead of doing a backflip he overcompensates the jumping portion of the move and falls onto his back before the springs toss him forward into the clear plastic head first. The residual thump that preceded the fail was strong enough to even make Jon wince even though he didn’t feel any pain. The action causes Tim to laugh even harder as the older two watch in horror. Damian picks Jonathan’s glasses off of the floor and back onto his face before the duo spends twenty more minutes bouncing in the chamber. 

Eventually, they grow bored and move on to the next area. After crossing through a gold color winding tube they see a maze of wobbly bridges, ziplines, and bars with the only thing separating them and the museum was a rubber-coated chain-linked fence. The entrance to the other chamber was high above them meaning that they’ll need to cross the area to get there. While there was a straight path with a padded ladder on the edge it was a no-brainer the children were going to take the more exciting path to their destination. 

Before the first bridge, there was a placard with cartoonishly printed letters that were obviously meant to be read by those with a simpler understanding of the English language. “Kryptonian cities were very tall and had mini spaceships they used in the same way people on earth use cars. Kara, did you have a spaceship car?!”

Kara turns from her musings in front of the Kryptonopolis diorama and walks closer to the fence. “Uh… What?”

“It says here that you had flying cars!” He exclaims pointing at the words.

She tilts her head back to glance at the board to read what Jon was pointing at. “I guess that’s one way to put it but it wasn’t as clear cut as flying cars. Krypton didn’t really have roads or paths in the sense this planet does; cars are not an accurate way to describe it.”

“Flying cars!” Jon concludes not understanding the nuances of her description. 

He proceeds with the obstacle course and nearly falls over the railless rope bridge trying to run over it and instead falls over on the cushioned planks. Damian facepalms at the spectacle before him and mutters, “-Tt- I cannot believe I thought you would be competent for vigilantism. What was I even thinking before?”

“Hey, I managed to jump over all those buildings! Buildings don’t shake when you jump off of them!” Jon defends as he gets up to continue his path. 

There is a set of monkey bars on an incline up to a platform that leads to a zipline. Wordlessly Damian places Jonathan’s hand on his shoulder and the boy immediately understands the meaning as he jumps on his back just as Damian grabs onto the metal. He carries both of them over a ball-pit to the other side as Jon is reminded of holding onto his friend on the motorcycle. It was fun but probably something he won’t be able to experience again. He continues to dangle off of Damian as they cross the zip-line much to the detriment of Kara and Dick’s mental health as they watch the stunt from two stories below. After several more of the same events, the two make it to the top, mostly thanks to Damian, and crawl through a blue tunnel.

On the inside was a series of different colored slides meant to represent the many types of kryptonite in the world. There wasn’t any padding at the bottom and the large winding slides also had no tops meaning if there was one wrong move someone could get seriously hurt. Now that got the three chaperones’ attention as they run to the entrance in a frenzy to find the reason no one else was currently in the exhibit. 

Meanwhile, Jonathan and Damian were reading the descriptions for each of the exits. “This blue one says that it cures red kryptonite. What does red Kryptonite do?”

Damian leans over the placard over the scarlet slide and says, “It says here that red kryptonite causes rage. I’m sure it does more than that but nothing a museum would want to explain to children.”

Jon walks over to the green slide and reads, “Green kryptonite makes Superman weak and sick. It’s also the most common of all the kryptonite.” He moves over to the next slide curiously as it’s a very shiny gold while Damian reads off the pink slide. 

“Apparently pink kryptonite causes hormonal changes and unintentionally heightened levels of affection.”

“I don’t think it says that.”

“It literally reads, ‘Will cause love' so I feel like that’s a very apt description, Jonathan.” 

“Huh, weird.” He states as he reads off the gold sign. “Gold kryptonite will take away a Kryptonian’s power for… FOREVER?!”

Damian walks over and reads the sign before scowling at the print in front of them. “Why would they reveal such an obvious vulnerability to the public?”

“Oh my gosh Dami, imagine if I was hit with Gold kryptonite!” Jon shouts with his fingers pulling at his black locks. “I could lose my durability or healing! It’s all I have Dami!”

“Jonathan, that would be the least of your problems if someone had the radioactive material in your presence,” Damian explains, taking one of Jonathan’s hands out of his hair and examining each slide. “The red one appears the most complex while the green one is the steepest. Which one do you think we should go down?”

Jon tilts his head while holding his chin with his free hand before deciding on going down the red slide as it is a fun steep swirl rather than a boring straight line. Damian decides to go down the green slide instead due to his leg injury when out of the corner of his eyes he sees Tim crawl through the plastic tube. Jon turns behind him from his place atop the red slide to see the young man with a panicked expression while Dick waves his arms outside the playground at them through the fence. “The place is under maintenance and is condemned!” The teenager screams moving to go grab the two boys

That word sounds familiar to Jonathan when in a flash his mind shifts back to that fateful night on the bridge to Blüdhaven. Right before they were chased by bad guys the two talked about their path and why it was so empty. His eyes widened in dread as he recalls the exact words Damian told him.

“It means that this structure was deemed unsafe and will be blown to smithereens.”

Just as he remembers the sentence the plastic under his friend creeks and snaps causing the older boy to fall straight down to the concrete floor below. Jonathan doesn’t even think as all he can see is his best friend about to get hurt again and before Tim could grab him he dives off the edge to try and catch him. From the bottom of the slide, Kara rushes through and catches both of the boys in her safe arms. She carries the children out of the playground where a museum employee runs over to see what the commotion is about. 

“What were those two doing in there?! Why is there still a small child in there?!”

“I’m fifteen!” Tim yells from above as he crawls backward to get out the way he came. 

Kara sets the boys down on the foam floor while trying to steady her heavy heartbeat as she shouts, “The sign fell and we didn’t see it! Why is a stupid sign the only thing between children who can’t read and uncertain death!”

The worker goes pale at the information and it’s obvious that they didn’t know that was the only thing. “WHAT?!” They run over to the front, where Tim was just getting out, to see a clearly homemade sign sloppily dented on the ground. “WHO IN THE-!”

“Don’t you dare act like this is news to you because if everyone knew this area was dangerous there should have already been more here to stop people from entering than this! What kind of establishment is this-”

“Mam we are so sorry about this, there should have been tape around the area-”

“Don’t mam me! My baby cousin and his friend could have gotten seriously hurt!” She roars getting red in the face pointing at the two boys.

Jonathan, who appears to be in a panicked trance, was currently rocking back and forth on the floor while cradling the other’s head in his tiny arms muttering nonsense. Damian meanwhile is completely horrified by the contact and awkwardly lays there. “It’s okay, you’re fine, I’m fine, you’re still here. We’re both still here. You’re safe and I’m safe and no one is taking you from me again and we won’t blow up. See, I’m fine and you’re fine because you’re right here. You’re right here in my arms like you should be-”

“Jon, buddy, sweetie, smol child? Please let my brother go; I think you’re suffocating him.” Dick says kneeling down and attempts carefully pry his sibling away from the muttering child. That was the wrong thing to do as Jonathan immediately attacks him and tries to move away, pulling Damian by the neck. “Oh my gosh, Kara help!” 

“Wow… Uh…” The poor employee stutters watching the scene before him. “We… We are so sorry. We don’t know how we could ever make this right.”

“If you tape off the area and give Jon a bunch of free stuff we won’t sue,” Tim announces putting his shoes back on while Kara stares at her traumatized cousin in shock. “Also something for the Hellspawn while you’re at it.”

One impromptu shopping spree later (ie. looting of the Superman gift shop) the five of them were on their way to the Manhattan Project exhibit in uncomfortable silence. No one talked and the only sound between them was the occasional smacking of gum from Jonathan who thought that putting an entire pack of the candy in his mouth and eating it wrapper and all was a good idea. Dick, bless his soul, was the first to try and say anything. 

“Soooo… are we going to talk about that-”

“No.” Tim cuts off as they enter the exhibit. “Okay, we’re here!”

And indeed they are as they enter an area they are immediately met with a small group of scientists crowding a very elderly man who is doing his best to answer the questions being thrown at him. Royal blue eyes widen as immediately recognizes the man and proclaims as much. “Holy crap, that’s Doctor Jonathan Osterman!”

“My name is Jonathan.” The boy helpfully adds before attempting to swallow the gum in his mouth. 

“You’re a few bulbs short of a chandelier to be anything like the man before us, Jonathan.” Damian sighs as he looks away from the foolish gluttonous display next to him.

Kara lifts a brow at the unassuming person in front of her and asks, “He’s the guy whose work with the intrinsic field created the basis for modern-day weaponry such as lasers, cold fusion, energy projections, the modern-day hologram, and teleportation!”

“Didn’t his work also help make a really dangerous bomb that disintegrated everything within the blast radius as if it didn’t exist?” Dick asks with a bit of spite in his voice.

“And Einstein helped create the atomic bomb. Science is complicated.” The teen huffs before walking up to a display of a much younger Jonathan and Janey Osterman holding up a noble prize for their accomplishments. “Besides, after the first test of that weapon it was destroyed and the documents were burned. The only reason we even know about the project is because of the catastrophic outcome of leaving an even greater crater within the grand canyon.”

“Ah yeah, no one can forget the thing that made the grand canyon slightly more interesting.”

“Dick, what is up with you?” Tim presses at his older brother’s annoyed tone. “Do you really not like the work of Doctor Osterman that much?”

The man sighs and crosses his arms in a tired manner. “It’s not that. It’s just that… Do you ever get a weird vibe from someone you’ve never met?”

“No?”

“Yes,” Jon answers, feeling left out of the conversation he was never a part of causing Kara to tug on his leash. 

“I might be a bit odd but I hope that doesn’t affect your opinion on my research.” A deep airy voice says from behind the group causing all of them, except Kara who heard him coming, to jump where they were standing.

“Ahh!”

“Holy shit!”

“Hi! I’m Jonathan Samuel Kent but that’s too long to say so you can just call me Jon!” The youngest greats stick out a hand to the elderly scientist. 

The man holds out a bony hand to shake before resting it back on his walker. “Hello Jon, I’m Dr. Jonathan Osterman. Sorry about scaring you all but it’s always so interesting to see young people so interested in my work.”

Dick shamefully rubs the back of his head as he averts his eyes away from the man. “S-sorry about that. I-”

“Don’t be sorry, son.” Dr. Osterman says, shaking his head. “I don't take any offense to what you said. If anything I get a strange vibe from myself. Why I once almost ruined the entire Manhattan Project by wandering inside an active testing chamber to get a watch for my now wife. God was really looking after me that day, I’ll tell you what.”

Tim shoves his brother out of the way and eagerly shakes the man’s hands with enthusiastic vigor proclaiming, “Hello Doctor Osterman, I’m Tim Wayne and it is an honor to meet you! I was hoping I would see you when I came here and ask you some questions about your work but I never thought you would approach us!”

“Very eager, aren’t we? I’ll be happy to answer all of your questions if you don’t mind a few pauses here and there. I’m over ninety and I’m just grateful for still having my mind intact.”

“Of course!”

Kara smiles at the teen’s eagerness and remarks, “I never knew you were such a fan of nuclear physics, Timmy.”

The boy glances at her with a sheepish expression and explains, “It’s a bit of a new interest of mine. I was also planning on heading to Star Labs for the speed force research but they were only going to let reporters in.”

“First he’s our little detective, then our little hacker, and next he’ll be our little scientist. He just won’t stop learning.” The older Wayne teases affectionately rubbing the boy’s steadily growing hair. 

Suddenly Jonathan’s stomach began to grumble in a way that made him feel terrible. It was an extremely sickening noise as it’s plain it’s not the normal kind of growl Jon gets in his gut when he’s hungry. The small child immediately pulls the olive pant leg of his cousin with the hand not holding onto Damian and loudly whispers, “Kara, my tummy hurts.”

His friend next to him sighs. “-Tt- Maybe if you didn’t eat a brick of chewing gum with the wrapper included this wouldn’t be happening.”

She kneels down and looks over Jon attentively before picking him up in her arms. “Can you let go of Damian’s hand for me?” Jon pouts but compiles without hesitation to be effectively carried. Kara turns to the older males and announces, “I’m going to take Jon to the restroom. We’ll be back in a few minutes.”

The boys nod in acknowledgment before going back to their conversation with the scientist. Kara picks up Jon and takes him to the main lobby to where she last saw a restroom and debates whether or not Jon is too old to go into the women’s restroom with her or if she has to go into the men’s restroom. She eventually just goes into the women’s room with the boy and enters a stall where his body abruptly feels the need to projectile vomit the contents of his stomach into the toilet; which he does.

The blonde rubs the younger boy’s back in soothing circling motions as he empties his insides out into the porcelain while hugging the bowl. After his first fit of puking is over with he can instinctively tell a second wave is coming. Kara opens Jonathan’s leash/backpack to see if they grabbed any juice or water from the shop only to find that all the boys grabbed were toys and souvenirs. She exhales frustrated at the situation and looks over her sick cousin with sympathy before standing up.

“Jon, I’m going to run around and see if there’s a vending machine with some juice or ginger ale. It might take me a while since I can’t use my powers in here, but if you need me all you have to do is scream and I’ll be back before you can blink.”

He gives her a thumbs-up before his fits continue and she sprints out of the restroom to begin her quest for a cold drink. His vomiting thankfully lasts much shorter this time and while he does feel light-headed his stomach settles down to a point if feels normal again. He leaves the restroom after washing his hands and face to look for his cousin to tell him the good news but doesn’t see her anywhere. Jon is about to head back inside the bathroom to wait for her when a loud disappointed sigh catches his ears.

In front of the Krypton exhibit stood an unmistakably disgruntled teenager in an orange, white, and blue letterman’s jacket standing in front of the now more blocked off entrance. He rubs the back of his black undercut hair with an exaggerated sigh as he slumps over with his back against the wall. “I can’t believe this.” The boy sighs with his eyes closed moving his hand away from his hair to mess with his green piercings. “I finally get out and it’s fucking closed.”

Jon, always the empathetic one, trots over to the teenager with his backpack and pulls out a black and red Superman shirt he got for his father. His dad probably wouldn’t mind not getting it because he’s superman and this kid looks really sad about not being able to go inside the area. He cheerfully holds out the shirt and says, “Don’t be upset mister! You can have this if it makes you feel better!”

He snaps his eyes open to reveal the exact same shade of sky blue that Jonathan has and jumps back startled by his presence. Jon shakes the garment in his comparatively tiny fingers at the other and the older teenager slowly takes the piece with a bewildered look. “Uh… Thanks? Where are your parents?”

“They’re at work but my cousin, my friend, and my friend’s brothers are around here. Where are your parents?” Jon asks back because the boy looked younger than his cousin meaning he probably isn’t an adult. 

The teen blinks at him before replying, “Don’t worry about it.”

Now it’s Jon’s turn to blink as he responds being brushed off with, “You’re not an adult. Where is your adult?”

It looks like he’s about to say something when from the lobby he hears the click of sharp heels walking into the lobby from where they were standing and the teenager gasps wide eyes. “Oh shit, Mercy!” He turns on his high top sneakers and runs towards the emergency exit before the unknown brunette with a tight updo could spot him. He slams into the emergency door, causing the alarm to go off, and dashes around to the back several blocks when he finally stops in an empty alley to look behind him. What he finds nearly makes him scream in terror as right behind him was the little boy who gave him the shirt panting due to running so fast.

“Geez, that was weird. Why did you run away so quickly?” Jon pants staring up at him.

“Holy fu- Kid, no! Why the heck did you follow me!?” He yelps grasping onto his hair in frustration and worry. “Your cousin or whatever is going to be looking for you! I can’t have more people seeing me!”

“But you were running!”

“And that made you want to follow me!?”

“Yes!” Jon shouts unabashed by the alarm the other was feeling. “I’ve seen that kind of running before and it means that you were running from bad guys!”

“That makes it, like, a hundred times more confusing about why you followed me!” The teenager shouts back pointing in the direction of the museum. “Go back before someone starts looking for you!”

“Not until I know you’ve chased off the bad guy!” The determined child huffs defiantly with his hands on his hips. “Besides, my mom gave me a button that will call over my family if things get dangerous meaning I can protect you if a bad guy is after you!”

The older boy drags a hand over his face as he lets out a huge breath and he stares at the confusing whirlwind that is the stubborn wall of a child before him. “Kid-”

“My name is Jonathan Samuel Ke-”

“Jonathan, whatever, look.” He corrects before glaring at him. “You’re a nice boy and all but I don’t need protection. Just run back to your family and-”

“Then why did you run away so fast?” Jon interrupts, frowning up at the male. 

Blue eyes roll as he explains, “None of your business. Now go back!”

Jon glares back with the same amount of fury before pouting once again and crossing his arms. “I can’t.”

“What.”

“This is my first time in the city. I dunno which way to go.” He elaborates pointing to the button on his belt loop. “This is the first time I’ve been out of my apartment to explore the city even though I’ve been livin’ here for a while. I don’t know where anything is.”

The teenager’s eyes turn sympathetic at the boy’s words before steeling themselves as he crosses his arms as well. “I’m not going to be much help either. This is the first time I left my home too. Why don’t you use that button you said would call your family?”

“That’s only for emergencies and if you’re not in danger and I’m not in danger then it isn’t an emergency.” Jon frowns with an embarrassed flush. “I don’t think getting lost is an emergency.”

“Getting lost is totally an emergency!” Without asking he presses the button on Jonathan’s belt loop and before the alarm Jonathan is able to hear goes off the teen presses it again to shut it off with wide eyes. “Oh no. Oh nonnononnonono-”

“What? It didn’t even go off yet.” The child says looking at the red and blue plastic with confusion. 

“Y- you’re related to a freaking Kryptonian!?”

Now it’s Jonathan’s turn to go wide-eyed as he gasps loudly and exclaims, “How did you know?!” The child is scared because he knows how important it is not to let his identity or relation to Superman become known and the fact that this kid found out so quickly was beginning to make him worry. “Please don’t tell anyone! My mom and Dad will kill me if they know someone else knew!”

“Your Dad will kill you?  **_MY_ ** dad will kill me! I was already dead and now I’m going to be a million times more dead!” The teen starts to breathe heavily to calm himself down and mutter to himself. “Okay, you got this. You can do this. You can’t go to the police so all you gotta do is just bring the kid back before anyone notices. Maybe they don’t know he’s gone yet? Just return the kid and get the fuck out of there before Mercy finds you and get home. If I can do that I’ll be home free and Dad won’t-”

“Are you going to tell anyone because it’s really important that you don’t?” Jon asks in the middle of the other’s rambling. 

The teenager blinks again and grabs the end of Jonathan’s leash cautiously before answering, “No. I promise I won’t. Trust me that is the last thing I want to do.” He breaths one last time and hardens his expression into an extremely forced smile as he folds the shirt in his hands into his pocket. “Okay Jonathan, here’s the deal. We are going to retrace our steps to find the museum again. Then we’ll find your family and we both forget this ever happened. Deal?”

“Deal.” Jon nods before asking. “What’s your name? It ain’t fair you know my name but I don’t know yours.”

The teenager begins walking, tugging the seven-year-old by the leash, and replies, “Conner. My name is Conner.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welcome to Metropolis where small children get lost and run into the son of evil supervillains! 
> 
> I liked writing this chapter and going back to basics with this story. It was fun and relaxing while also letting me wrap a few loose ends up. There was also some plot in here but it's not that heavy.
> 
> I'm really excited for the next chapter, which will be out in a few days, and I hope you all are too. Jon's Metropolis adventure is far from over but at least he's not in any real danger. He's just extremely lost and confused but that's not new for him. Thank you all for reading and I'm always open for feedback.
> 
> Next chapter: Conner Luthor and Jonathan Samuel Kent wander the city together while trying not to call attention to themselves. (And probably failing miserably)


	20. The Lost Sons of Krypton

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Two boys rub their last functioning brain cells together somehow can't complete the one job they gave themselves.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Conner (Kon-El) and Jon chapter everybody! 
> 
> There's a saying that goes like, "One boy has one brain and two boys have no brain." Say what you want about it but this holds true for this chapter. If you were expecting Conner to be a serious and focused person prepared to be disappointed. 
> 
> It's always nice to see new people, read new people's comments, and knowing that people who already read this story still like it! Thank you as always and enjoy the stupidity and chaos.

Jonathan thought that he and Conner had a solid plan between the two of them. All they had to do was drop the seven-year-old off at the museum without letting it be known he even left. It was extremely uncomplicated and Jon saw they were making good progress getting back to the building because he could recognize a few shops they passed while running away. He still doesn’t know why the teenager was running, but the other only appears mildly worried about that at the moment. 

Everything was all fine and dandy. Jon could see the top of the sleek structure in the distance and Conner appeared relieved that their efforts were going exactly how they wanted it. Then the two heard a very joyful jingle in the distance distracting them from their quest almost instantly. While Conner was still trying to place what it was Jonathan’s azure blue eyes immediately lit up in recognition as he scans the traffic around them. 

“Oh my gosh, I didn’t know cities had ice cream trucks!” He screeches in glee as the child instinctively reaches into his short’s pocket to grab the ten-dollar bill his mother gave him for the outing. 

The older boy holding Jon’s leash blinks at him before asking in a dumbfounded voice, “Ice cream trucks are real?”

Jon could almost hear the record scratch his brain made trying to process that sentence. He’s reminded of when Damian told him he’s never had ice cream and stares into the other’s identical eyes with criticism. “Please tell me you’ve eaten ice cream before.”

“Of course I have!” Conner answers, extremely offended much to the younger’s relief. “I just thought ice cream trucks were something you only see on television like arcades or movie theaters!” 

Jonathan can only deal with one crisis at a time so he chooses to focus on the most relevant one. “For the love of all that is good and holy, we need to find that ice cream truck!” He declares with the seriousness of a leader about to announce war. 

He was expecting the older male to argue with him like a normal grown-up would do when they’re on an important mission. Conner scrunches his face in contemplation before fiddling with his large green piercing on his lobe, turning it several times, before dropping the rope attaching him to the child. Jon’s eyes glowed with pure delight as the teen crouches down with his arms stretched behind him commanding, “Get on my shoulders. We can find it better that way.”

The child is not one to decline a free ride so he does as he’s told and climbs up on the tall teenager before they sprint at an impressive speed in a completely different direction than their previous destination. Conner, and by extension Jon, follow the music for several blocks until they witness their target enter a grassy area filled with trees, colorful flowers, and dirt walkways. Jonathan is astounded by the sight because he thought that cities didn’t have such beautiful greenery in them; that it was all metal and concrete. The white truck with a giant strawberry ice cream cone atop of it parks around similar vehicles with different foods decorating them. They are all parked in a cul de sac-esque circle where many people lined up to order from them. 

Jonathan and Conner watch on with starry eyes and drop jaws at all the food around them. Jon leans down to look at the teen, grabbing the tufts of his hair, before inquiring, “Do you have any money? I don’t think I can pay for all of this with ten dollars.”

The older boy reaches into the navy pocket of his leather jacket, the one not holding his t-shirt, and pulls out a fat stack of one-hundred-dollar bills. “Is this enough?”

Jon blinks at the wad of cash with surprise wondering if all older kids were this rich or if he was just poor. “Holy cow… You could buy all the ice cream ever!”

“Oh thank God.” Conner sighs. “I didn’t know how much things were so I just kind of grabbed whatever I could find.”

“Your parents must give you a lot for your allowance. I have a friend whose dad does the same thing.”

“Yeah… Allowance. Let’s go with that.” Conner says awkwardly before scanning all of the trucks before them. “Are these all ice cream trucks?”

“Maybe?” Jon answers unsurely as he does the same. “I’ve never had taco flavored ice cream.”

“What’s a falafel?” The older asks pointing at a particular truck. 

“Oh! Oh! I know this one!” The boy exclaims bouncing on the teen’s shoulders. “Dami gave me one once! It’s this bread thingy that kinda tastes like a really squishy veggie but not the ones you eat alone. Like it doesn’t taste like carrots or lettuce but it’s still a veggie, ya know?”

“Uh, not really.”

Jon shrugs at the response. “That’s okay, I didn’t really like it that much but Dami said I’ll grow a taste for it which doesn’t make any sense. I can’t grow more tastebuds.”

Conner looks up at the child and explains, “Actually you can grow more tastebuds. They’re just like any other cell in your body and because you’re so young that also means you’re growing more tastebuds.”

“You know that but not that ice cream trucks were real?” The boy teases while pulling on the other’s black hair like horse reins. “Speaking of ice cream trucks we gotta go!”

At the kid’s insistence, Conner begins talking into the park to the ice cream truck and puts all but one bill back into his pocket. They stand in line, both shaking with excitement at being near the vehicle, patiently waiting for their turn. The two eventually get their turn after several excruciating minutes of waiting when Jon screams in joy again at the menu. 

“They have real ice cream! I thought all ice cream trucks just had cool popsicles!” 

Conner leans in closer to look at the flavors available and grins when he sees something he likes. He’s about to order when he freezes at the window of the truck. Jonathan also finds something he likes and leans down to ask if the older boy is finished looking at the menu when he notices the nervous look on his face. “What’s wrong, do they not have your favorite flavor?” 

“I… It’s not that. I-um…” He nervously shuffles his feet around and mutters, “I don’t know how to order.”

“That’s your problem?” Jon laughs waving off the boy’s concern. “I can do that! Besides, it’s probably easier if I do it cause I’m higher up! Jus’ tell me your order!”

Conner smiles with relief and tells Jon what he wants. “I want a twin scoop of cotton candy and birthday cake with, like, all of the chocolate sprinkles!” 

“You have very good taste.” He comments looking up at the person in the window. “He’ll have a twin scoop of cotton candy and birthday cake with extra chocolate sprinkles, and a small mango sorbet with pineapple chunks!”

“Okay, that will be $7.50!” The cashier tells them while someone else prepares their treat. 

Jon goes to hand the lady his money and puts the change in his pocket then Conner steps to the side to wait for the dessert. “You didn’t get any ice cream?”

The seven-year-old shakes his head. “I can’t have dairy, it makes me sick.”

“That sucks.” The teen frowns leaning his head back to look at Jon. “So you never had ice cream before?”

He shakes his head again. “No, I used to eat ice cream all the time. I even lived next to a dairy farm before moving here, but something bad happened and now things that taste or remind me of milk make me really sick.”

“If you couldn’t tell something had milk in it could you eat it?” He asks curiously. 

Jon shrugs his shoulders. “I dunno, probably. I’m not allergic so that might work.”

Their order is called out and they each get their treat from the pick-up window then stand in the middle of the park to gaze at the beautiful scenery. It was a very lovely place and the sun is high enough above them to turn the cool October chill into a rather warm high noon. Their frozen treats were just the thing each of them needed to relax their nerves and worries. 

Then Jon begins to wonder what he was even worried about before coming to the sudden realization that his group doesn’t know where he is! He holds his empty cup of mango sorbet away from him and looks down at the teen’s whose shoulder’s he’s on. “Oh my gosh, Conner! We need to go back to the museum!” 

The sky blue-eyed teen jolts going wide-eyes at the words. The male immediately shoves the last bits of waffle cone down his throat without chewing and wipes his mouth on his white sleeve as he clutches onto the child’s legs. “Fuck, I forgot!” He screams startling all the leisurely strolling pedestrians in the park.

He immediately runs back the direction he came to where they think that the building is located when Conner suddenly stops only one block over and begins to run in a different direction. Confused by the turn of events away from their main objective, Jon pulls the boy’s hair back so that he could look the other in the face to question, “Conner, we’re going the wrong way! What are you doing?!”

“There’s a mall! I’ve never been to a mall before!”

“I’ve never been to a mall either!” Jon hollers gleefully turning his head wildly to look for it. “I’ve only seen them on TV!”

“Same!” Conner agrees while he moves his hair away from the child’s tiny hands to search for the shopping center. “Okay, the sign said it was this way and I’ve never seen a real mall before! You’re going to have to be my eyes, Jonathan. Do you see anything that looks like a mall?”

“Call me Jon.” The boy demands as he circles his fingers around his eyes to make binoculars for himself. “All of these buildings could be a mall because malls are big buildings. We could be searching for hours!”

Conner scrunches his face displeasing and before fiddling with his earring again. He plays with it for about a minute while Jon continues searching through the large skyscrapers for anything that could be what he was looking for. Eventually, the teenager stops messing with his piercing and scans the area again for a significantly shorter amount of time before seemingly finding his target. “Found it! It’s a couple of miles east but I bet I can run there in about…” He kicks the tips of his sneakers on the ground as if testing his feet. “Thirty-five minutes?”

“Well, then you better start running!” Jon proclaims pointing where he imagines east would be.

And then they’re off again with any previous panic either of them had replaced with exhilaration as they head to the Metropolis MegaMall. As they sped by the other people in the street Jon could feel the wind fly off of them causing a current of air in their trail. Conner leaps over an orange striped safety barricade and several human-sized wet concrete tiles as a shortcut causing the younger child to mention, “You’re really fast!” The teenager stiffens quite a bit at Jonathan’s words and off handily mentions he’s on the track team of his high school. The way he says it doesn’t make that statement feel true, but Jonathan doesn’t press the matter; he’s getting a free ride so who cares if he’s fast or not. It takes less time to get there than Conner predicted because he started running faster than anyone Jonathan has ever seen without the use of superpowers.

The building is humongous as it completely takes up two entire streets with five tall floors that are the size of previous buildings they passed by. Some sections of the center are so far from each other there was a bridge over the street just to connect them. There was even an extremely towering hotel attached to the mall just so people could stay overnight and shop. The two boys’ jaws drop at the mirrored glass building and spend a good three minutes standing in front of the sliding doors to ogle at this monstrosity before them. 

“Malls never looked like that on TV,” Conner asserts breathlessly trying to get his bearings together. “Wow… imagine what it looks like inside.” 

Jon does as he’s told and accomplishes to recreate the scene from Willy Wonka’s Chocolate Factory where they enter the candy room. “It’s probably really cool.”

“Probably. In movies, there is always something really interesting to do or you meet a girl or you get a job or the apocalypse happens-”

“I don’t think that last one is good.” 

“No, but it's something!” Conner begins to walk inside while Jon waves his hands out to pretend like he’s opening the motorized doors with his mind.

The two have to stop and stare at their surroundings again as they are met with many sights, noises, and smells that their senses are begging to overload. The hallway in front of them is filled with different stores advertised with an assortment of colorful logos. Aside from the chatter of the crowd around them, there were screams of joy and the rushing of what sounds like an indoor roller coaster along with the repetitive dinging of carnival games. Somewhere, though Jon couldn’t really pinpoint the direction, wafted the scent of pizza and pretzels. 

“This is better than I could have ever dreamed of.” Jonathan squeals, tightening his grip on Conner’s head. “I don’t even know where to begin!”

Conner doesn’t seem to have any problem deciding what he wants to do as he heads for the sound of the mechanical ride to find a mini indoor theme park. “OH MY GOD A FERRIS WHEEL! A REAL FERRIS WHEEL! JON, THEY’RE REAL! THEY’RE REALLY REAL!” He wails pointing at the small circuit ride that’s about the size of half the mall and stomping wildly in place. 

Jon tilts his head at the confounded screaming and questions, “Even I knew about ferris wheels. How come you don’t?”

He shifts nervously and explains, “I… My dad never took me outside much.”

“Why not?”

Conner fidgets again. “He… He’s just really overprotective of me, ya know? He thinks that I’ll get kidnapped or hurt.”

Jon completely understands because he’s had both of those things happen to him so it makes sense that someone would be worried about it. “I get it. Ferris wheels are really boring unless you’re with friends or family.”

“They’re also the place where two people get together in the climax of- like, every modern young adult romance movie.” He adds helpfully. “Probably not gonna go on it since I don’t have someone I like, but I’ll keep it in mind for the future.”

“Are they supposed to be romantic? I go on them so I can see really, really far away.”

“I don’t know that they’re supposed to be but I know that they are.” Conner turns to the side to look at the roller coaster they heard when they first entered. “Let’s go on that, Jon! I’ll pay since you paid for my ice cream.”

Not understanding the concept of equal monetary exchange Jonathan nods and gestures for the teen to walk over to the entrance of the area. They wait in line for a little bit as it was not long at all when they’re called up to be measured. The man at the front of the line looks at two boys and measures their heights before turning to the older asking, “How old?”

“Five.”

“Seven.”

The two glance at each other confusingly and Jon pouts with his hurt feelings. “Conner, I’m seven! I’m not a baby!”

A bewildered, “Huh?” escapes the boy’s lips as the man takes out two different color wrist bands from behind the ticket stand.

The man laughs as he attaches the red on Jonathan’s hand and the green one on Conner’s. “Don’t be mad, kid. My older brother teases me all the time with that kind of humor. I bet he doesn’t mean it.” He does something on the computer for a moment then sticks his hand out. “Okay, one kid ticket and one regular ticket. That’ll be $48.71.”

Conner hands over one of the bills from his pocket then hands it to the cashier before going off into the park with Jon skipping happily behind him. “Hey, you forgot your change!” The man screams waving the cash at them.

“Keep it!” The older boy shouts back over his shoulder to go on the roller coaster. 

The two get in line for the roller coaster and once the person manning the ride sees their wristbands they plop themselves into the hard plastic seats with huge grins. They’re both doing their best to hold in squeals as they’re buckled in and the employee places Jonathan’s glasses in his backpack for him. The swell of unadulterated joy could no longer be contained as they feel the carts move along the track causing the two to scream as if they’re already going down a hill; even though they are barely out of the station. 

“This is so cool! I’ve never been on a roller coaster without my parents! I feel so grown up!”

Conner nods plentifully in agreement as the ride begins to move up the first hill, “I’ve never done ANYTHING by myself! This is so cool! Dad and Mercy don’t know what they’re talking about; THIS IS AWESOME!”

“Who’s Mercy?” Jon asks.

“Mercy… Uh… Huh. I’ve never had to explain her to people befoooo-oooOOOOOOOOO!” His train of thought is interrupted with his own scream of happiness as he throws his hands in the air. Jonathan does the same as they’re dropped down a steep slope and taken for a loop at high speeds. And another loop. And another. Then they’re back going up a much larger hill than the first letting them catch their breaths and allowing Conner to finish answering the question. “A-haa- Anyways, Mercy is this lady who works for my dad and weirdly loyal to him. She takes care of me when he’s away. And when he’s here… She just takes care of me but she’s not my mom; I don’t have one of those.”

“So she’s your nanny?”

“No, I don’t think so.”

“A maid? My friend has a butler that helps his dad take care of him.”

“No, Mercy doesn’t really clean. She just… Does everything. She’s just Mercy.” He finishes explaining just as they’re about to go over the hill. “Oh my gosh, Jon! We’re going down!”

Jonathan pumps his fists into the air. “YES!”

The ride only lasts less than a minute more when it ends. They get off and Jon puts his glasses back on before the two move onto several more rides in the mall. They get on a carousel, spinning teacups, a gravitron, a scrambler, a mini drop tower, and lastly a log flume. The boys are still soaking wet from the water ride when Conner sees a child walking by with a large Superman cape flowing behind them that he remembers his main objective that had been sorely forgotten. 

“JON! THE MUSEUM!”

“Huh?” Jon questions as he slams the hammer down on the strong man game he’s currently playing and misses his target. “Aw man, you distracted me.”

“I’ll do it, we gotta GO!” Conner quickly takes the mallet and smashes it on the target immediately getting the highest score as detailed by the deafening sound of a bell; impressing Jonathan to no end since he’s never seen anyone beat the game before. The person in charge of the booth is also impressed and begins clapping at the accomplishment allowing the young child to grab any prize he wanted. Even though he wanted the giant plushies he knows that none of them will fit in his tiny room. He instead grabs a superman themed basketball and cape before trotting up next to Conner, giving the teen the cape. “Here you go! You won it so you can have it.”

He puts it in the same pocket as the shirt before doing his best to cram the deflated basketball into the boy’s extremely filled backpack. The teen puts Jonathan back onto his shoulders and runs out of the area and the mall only to realize he doesn’t know which way to go. He accidentally took a different exit than he entered though meaning that the pierced teen is unable to recognize his surroundings. 

“Jon, do you remember which way it was?!”

The boy shakes his head after exploring for a second. “No, I don’t remember any of this.”

“Damn it! I can’t see that far!” Conner shouts rubbing his eyes as if it would have helped in any way. “Stupid restrictors!” 

“Stupid what?”

“Nothing- just… Okay, we headed east which means we have to go the opposite way-”

“Which means if we walk west then we’ll hit the museum in no time!" Jon concludes clapping his hands together victoriously! “Then we can come back here with Dami, and Kara, and Tim, and Dick and all enjoy the rides together!”

Conner rips off his own green wristband saying, “I can’t come back and your family cannot see me!”

“Why not?”

“Shut up! They just can’t okay!?” He snarls causing the younger child to jump in fear. Horrified by the reaction he caused he looks up to softly ruffles the boy’s fluffy hair. “I- I’m sorry. I’m not mad at you. I’m mad at… I’m mad at the situation. Please know that I just can’t explain why.”

“Oh…” Jon says still not understanding the reason but lets the topic go after seeing his reaction. “Okay, sorry for asking. We should probably go.”

“Yeah.”

About fifteen minutes into their desperate sprint towards where they thought the museum was Jonathan’s stomach growls in hunger. Conner slows down to look at the boy above him asking, “You hungry?”

“Sorry.” Jon apologies with a sheepish blush on his cheeks. “All I had was a waffle and gum. Then I threw up, so that means all I ate was that sorbet earlier.”

“Okay, we’ll get some food really fast, and then we head to the museum!” Conner states punching his fist into the palm of his hand to emphasize his point. “Does that sound like a good idea?”

“This is the perfect plan. Nothing can go wrong!” Jonathan replies with complete seriousness. “We can get some fast food and it’ll be great!”

“Fast food?”

“Why do I keep meeting people that seem to live under rocks?” He questions under his breath even though Conner can clearly hear him anyways. Jon crosses his arms and leans them upon Conner’s forehead like a table while gazing judgmentally into the other’s eyes. “I’m guessing you’ve never been to Bat Burger or Superburger. We need to go there and they give you your food super duper quickly.”

“I think I’ve seen commercials for those places before.” At least that was something. “Do you see one?”

The child hums as he breaks eye contact to search for any chain restaurant around them. “I think I see a Bat Burger over there.” He points in the direction of a crowded street to a building with a famous Bat symbol above the door. “But I like Superburger better. They have better chicken tenders.”

“We don’t really have the option to be picky right now so Bat Burger it is!” Conner hollers as he runs across the street, ignoring clear traffic signs and earning the ire of many drivers as he makes his way to the restaurant. Inside they stand in the line behind several people while looking up at the menu. “We’ve been waiting in a lot of lines.”

Jon shrugs as he ponders what kind of Robin-meal he wanted. “We have waited in a lot of lines. Maybe that’s just how city people live.”

“No one ever waits in line in movies or shows.”

“You sure do watch a lot of stuff.”

Now it’s Conner’s turn to shrug. “It’s not like I had much else to do. Not being allowed outside doesn’t leave a guy with a lot of options.”

“That’s sad. You’re really sad.” 

“Yeah, it is pretty sad. But I’m out here now so I’m going to enjoy it for as long as I can.”

Jon pats the teen on the head like a good dog and praises him for his positive outlook. “That’s the spirit! My dad says that kind of attitude will get you really far in life.”

The teen just nods at the comment and they’re eventually called up to the front to order their food. “Uh…” The male stutters to the very bored female cashier. 

“You can do it, Conner. Just tell her what you want.” Jon rallies, shaking his fist in encouragement. 

“I- I’ll have eight Night-Wings with honey mustard and a Jokerized side of fries with a regular Bat soda.”

“See, you did it! You can order food now!” Jon asserts in a non-condescending honest manner before looking down at the woman. “I’ll have a Bat-sliders Robin meal with sweet potato fries and apple juice.”

“Okay, that’ll be $10.54.” The worker drones out holding out her hand to receive their money. 

Conner hands her another bill from his pocket with a rushed, “Keep the change!” before stepping out of line to wait for their meal. The employee immediately brightens up and thanks the teen for his oddly placed generosity. The boys both wave at her before looking away out the window where Jon notices an extremely odd sight outside. 

Other people in the street glance at the same thing, but don’t seem to pay too much attention as what appears to be mini green and purple drones begin to fly above the city. There aren’t enough to draw any major panic and each of them is thin enough to make it know they aren’t armed in any dangerous way but they do have a camera on them. Jon pokes Conner’s hairline to get his attention and points at the devices. “Is that normal?”

“Hm?” Conner follows Jonathan’s direction to the robots and shrugs unphased by the sight. “Oh, those? Yeah, my Dad uses those to look after me when he’s not home. It really takes the term, Helicopter Dad, to a whole ‘nother level.”

“ORDER 1993!”

“That was fast.” The teen mumbles as he grabs their bag of food and begins to hand Jon his Robin meal when Conner halts at the sight of the drones outside. “Waaaaaaiiit… Oh. Oh no, this is bad.”

“Whut?” Jon presses as he takes out a Batmobile toy from his bag. 

The child can almost see the gears turning in the older male’s head as he contorts his face in several different reasoning expressions before settling on one of absolute trepidation. “My Dad just found out I’m not at home.”

“So?” He inquires as he shovels Bat-shaped fries down his mouth hole. “Shouldn’t he already know that?” Conner apprehensively scratches the side of his chin and murmurs something Jonathan couldn’t hear. “Conner, I can’t hear you.”

The boy clears his throat and dubiously repeats himself. “I ran away.”

Jon almost drops the burger on top of the other’s head, but doesn’t, in shock. Quickly he eats the rest of it at a breakneck pace and glares at the teen once he swallows. “Why do I always end up with people who are doing this kinda thing!?”

“This isn’t the first time?!” Conner shouts back as he ducks into the alley next to the Bat Burger when one of the drones heads their way. “You know, for a kid with a leash, you sure do get into some weird situations.”

“Tell me about it.” Jon sighs as he eats another fry. “I think we forgot about our drinks. Should we go back inside for them?”

“Jon now is not the time! My dad cannot see me with you! I’m already in enough trouble as it is and if he discovers I’m with a Kryptonian I might never be allowed near a window let alone outside ever again!” He nearly cries into his hands as he panics about what to do. “Aw man, I should have never left my room.” 

Thinking on his feet, the second-grader’s eyes scout the area from the alley and spots a large crowd of reporters next to a very plain looking office building with a star on it. That’s not a good place because he can already see a drone scan the sea of people. Next, he notices a small glass structure where people were getting on a bus. Perfect. Jon points to the vehicle and tells Conner, “Let’s get on that! It’ll take us away from here and then we can think of a better plan once you’re safe!”

Conner studies at the bus then looks back to Jon with a relieved grin. “Jon, that’s a great idea; you’re a genius! You’re like the third smartest person I know! And I know five people so that means you’re really smart.”

“Wow!” The backpack wearing boy beams as Conner carries them across the street onto the bus, making sure to carefully watch out for flying cameras. “No one has ever called me a genius before!”

The two enter the bus where the older boy reads the instructions on the money machine and inserts a bill into the slot where he randomly presses one of the stops on a screen. A ticket dispenses from the machine along with a lot of change and he takes both of them before taking a seat in the back of the bus. 

“This is much bigger than any bus I’ve ever been on.” Jon states as Conner sets him down next to the window. “Then again, I’ve only ever been on school buses.”

Subconsciously the child opens the window as their transportation begins to move and before they leave the street Jon sees a familiar head of brown hair in the crowd of reporters. He leans out of the bus and waves to the woman in the sea of reporter shouting, “HI MOM!”

Lois jumps in surprise at the sound of his voice and waves back at Jon with a perplexed bend of her brow because she didn’t expect to see her son near Star Labs. Then her eyes widen as she notices through the window of the bus that he’s alone. “JON!? JON WHERE’S KARA!? STOP THAT BUS!”

Conner, not understanding the severity of what’s happening, leans forward behind Jon, leash in hand. He waves at the random lady with a polite smile that only makes her more afraid for some reason as they see her take out her phone to call someone. Jon sits back down and Conner says, “She didn’t look like Superwoman or Supergirl.”

“She’s not.” Jon answers. “That’s my mom.”

“So your mom, is she a Kryptonian?” He asks in a hushed voice.

The kid shakes his head so hard his glasses almost fall off his face. “My mom isn’t a Kryptonian. My dad and cousin are… Also, I think my dog might be one but I never asked.”

“Huh…” Conner hums before smacking himself on the forehead. “I’m so dumb! We could have dropped you off to your mom!”

Jon blinks before smacking his forehead in the same exact manner. “Oh my gosh, you’re right! Do you think we can go back?” 

Conner reads the ticket in his hands and tilts his head. “Um…I don’t know? Apparently we’re getting off at Glenmorgan Square. If it’s close we could probably walk back but if not then we can just take the bus again. Do you know what that last stop was called?”

“I dunno. I just saw a building with a star on it. Dad told me not to go near it so I’m probably not allowed to go back there. My parents work at the Daily Planet so we should probably head there instead if we want to meet them without getting in trouble.” Jon describes pointing at the large tower with a globe atop of it in the distance. “Woah… That’s like… a whole bunch farther than I remember it being.”

“We did move so that makes sense.”

They have a pleasant ride on the bus before having to get off at a claustrophobic crowd of people running around like a pile of ants while surrounded by tall buildings with enormously sized monitors advertising anything and everything on them. Thankfully the Daily Planet is significantly closer than when they last checked, but still several miles away from their current destination. Conner puts Jonathan back onto his shoulders and throws away their Bat Burger bags into one of the many available public trash cans before honing his attention on the beacon that is the Daily Planet Globe in the distance. 

Unfortunately, the two boys put together have the attention span of a goldfish and are immediately distracted by a large toy store at the corner of one of the streets nearby and promptly forget about their mission again to bond over their love of all that is videogames. The two end up running through every aisle of the videogame section of the three-story store when they come across a promotional display for a dancing game Jon has never heard of before. There were cardboard advertisements everywhere for the latest edition of it with a green screen set up where people were watching others dance with the game. 

“Jon, we have to do that! I’m a total beast at that game! I even mastered all of the extreme songs!” Conner pleads to shake Jonathan’s red sleeve back and forth. 

“That looks so fun! LET’S DO IT!” Jon shouts loudly, raising his fists into the sky calling attention to himself. 

The two boys run-up to the employee and practically throw themselves at the poor minimum wage worker with excited pleas as they both ask to do the game together! The person tries to calm them down and explains that the dances are going to be broadcasted on the large screen outside the store but that information doesn’t stop either of them. Eventually, they let the boys go on when the current players were finished. As they wait impatiently Conner realizes something bad about the situation. 

“Jon, Jon, we’re going to be on the TV!” He whispers hisses tensely. 

Jonathan, in the process of putting his backpack next to a series of other bags people placed by the display, tilts his head in confusion before understanding the problem. “Yeah- Oh wait, the drones.”

“Yeah, the drones! They can’t see that I’m in here!” He says as he takes off his leather jacket. “Should I just tie this around my face?”

The child takes off his scarlet lenses and hands them to the teenager urgently. “Quick! Wear these! They’re like, the best disguise ever!” 

“Really now?” The male questions putting on the lenses. “How do I look?”

“I know it’s you but you look a lot smarter!” Jon says with an honest smile.

Conner chuckles and teases, “You saying I looked dumb before?”

“You said it, not me.” Jon laughs back staring at Conner’s oddly well-defined body now that his baggy outerwear was gone. “You, you have like… too much muscle. Dami has muscles too but you’re just an entire muscle; a whole muscle.”

“Thanks? I was made like this.” He responds, putting his jacket back on since he doesn’t have to cover his face with it.

The employee from before walks up to them shyly and informs them that there were a few other people waiting to go before them so the two can come back in about ten minutes and go on right away. Conner hands Jonathan back his glasses temporarily and the two decide to wander in other parts of the store for the same amount of time. While the teenager is staring at the inside of the store from the railing Jonathan is spending a few minutes gazing at the plastic robot section.

He picks up one with the same primary colors he’s usually wearing when a firm hand clutches his shoulder, digging their nails into his skin, and turns him around where he’s met with burning emerald orbs. Jonathan smiles at his assailant and welcomes them pleasantly. “Hi, Dami! What are you doing here?”

“JONATHAN SAMUEL KENT YOU COMPLETE AND UTTER IDIOTIC IMBECILE! YOU ARE THE WORSE THING TO HAVE EVER HAPPEN TO ME AND YOU KEEP PROVING THAT POINT TO ME EVERY DAY!” Damian bellows into his face with such ferocity his spit was flying into his face. 

Blue eyes blink at the hostile reaction to his simple greeting and tells him, “That’s not very nice.”

Jon is then violently shaken back and forth by his friend, causing him to nearly crush the box in his hand, as Dami screams, “WE DO NOT HAVE TIME FOR SUCH FOOLISH PLEASANTRIES! WHY DID YOU NOT SCREAM FOR HELP OR USE THAT ALARM YOUR PARENTS HAVE GIVEN YOU!?”

“Why would I do that? I’m not in danger.” He simply states breaking free from the other’s grip. “Besides, Conner and I had a plan to get back.”

“Who is Conner!?”

“Conner is this really cool guy I met. He kind of reminds me of you but you two are completely different. It’s hard to explain.” Jon reveals smiling wider at the taller boy. “I should introduce you! You’re not a Kryptonian so it should be fine if he meets you!”

“What!?”

Jonathan is about to go into more detail when another shout is heard in the distance that sounds a lot like Tim Drake. The two boys rush to the nearest window in their section to see what the commotion was all about to find Dick Grayson shoving his younger brother, who is frozen in shock, behind him. Kara is staring confusingly at the person who the man is yelling at who Jonathan knows is his new travel buddy, Conner.

“Get the FUCK away from my brother you damn himbo!”

“Dude, that was totally uncalled for. I didn’t do anything.” Conner replies disturbed by the random older stranger yelling at him. “If anything, he should be apologizing to me for screaming into my ear for no reason.”

The older Wayne gets up into the teenager’s face and jabs his pointer finger into his chest repeatedly while scolding him. “Tim doesn’t just scream for no reason! Look at him! LOOK AT HIM!” He points at his red polo wearing brother who’s royal blue eyes have glazed over in some sort of trance while simultaneously awestruck. “That’s not the face of someone who didn’t have anything happen to them!”

Conner puts his hands up defensively as he backs away from the enraged overprotective brother. “Look man, I don’t want any trouble. I really didn’t do anything.”

“Then apologize to him!”

“Dick.” Kara sighs holding the man back and causing the teenager to immaturely laugh at his attacker’s name. “Come on, Lois said the bus brought Jon around here and we can’t waste time yelling at strangers.”

“Pfft- Dick? Really? Your parents named you Dick?” He chortles covering his hands over his mouth to stop himself from full-on laughing but failing. The young adult rolls up an imaginary sleeve to fight this child laughing at him when the young boy stops making fun of him and suddenly straightens up. He turns around and starts running up the stairs to the third-floor yelling, “Holy shit, JON! Jon, it’s almost been ten minutes, it's our turn! Let’s go!”

Jon, without saying a word to anyone, drops the box in his hand and chases after the teenager gleefully, and all of his companions are startled by the sight of the youngest, who they believed was lost somewhere in the big city, following this stranger. “Conner, wait up! My legs aren’t as long as yours!”

“JON!?” The two eldest cries just as Tim comes back to reality. 

“Huh?”

Meanwhile, Damian is already furiously chasing after his friend but is hindered by the brace fastened upon his leg. “-Tt- Why are you all just standing there, you idiots?! After them!”

They all kick it into high gear as Dick swoops down to grab Damian while Kara catches up to the two boys almost immediately and Tim scrambles to do the same. The blonde holds Jonathan by the shoulder and turns him around but Conner swiftly picks Jon up while running saying, “Look, lady, I’ll apologize or whatever later but we gotta dance!”

“I- what?! Hey wait, that’s my-”

“Hi, Kara!” Jon waves at his cousin while being hauled over the teen’s shoulder. 

The two make it back to the videogame display and Conner takes Jonathan’s glasses back for himself as they are handed controllers and made to pick a song. “Jon, can you read without your glasses? If you can’t I’ll read the choices for you.”

“I can see but I’m not that good at reading yet,” Jon states, just as his group catches up to them.

Conner glares at them and grumbles, “Man, those guys are weirdly persistent to get me to apologize.”

“Why? Did you do something wrong?” He asks completely confused why Conner would need to apologize. 

“I don’t think I did. I was just minding my own business and that weirdo,” He points at the lean teenager, “started screaming in my ear the second he saw my face.”

“That’s weird. You shouldn’t have to say sorry for that.” The child says as he looks at the screen for the song choices. “How about the Circus song? I don’t think I’ve ever heard it before but it looks fun.”

“Ya sure about that one buddy? It’s really hard and you’ve never played this game before.” Conner asks, ignoring the waving and flailing of arms from the group of four gesturing frantically at Jonathan. 

“Now that you tell me that I have to do it! I’m not a quitter!” Jon huffs with his hands on his hips. 

Conner shrugs and picks the song with a lazy smile. “If you say so. Just remember to follow the moves on the screen and exaggerate your body.”

“Uh…”

“You know what? If you get lost just follow my lead and just have fun.” Conner shouts, throwing off his jacket to where the leash backpack was located to give himself more flexibility. 

Jon nods agreeing. “I can do that!” 

“Jon! Jon, come here!” Kara commands over the crowd. 

“In a minute! I’m doing a thingy!” Jon shouts back as the game loads. 

“Just move your hips and don’t fall behind Jon.” The teen challenges with a competitive grin the second the music begins to play.

“I’m not gonna lose!”

_There's only two types of people in the world_

_The ones that entertain, and the ones that observe_

_Well baby I'm a put-on-a-show kinda girl_

_Don't like the backseat, gotta be first_

The two begin dancing to the music and Kara’s jaw drops as she watches her innocent baby cousin doing sensual dance moves with a random stranger wearing his glasses. Dick watches them humorously and elbows the teenager next to him saying, “We need to do that next!” When Tim doesn’t respond sapphire eyes move down to see his little brother practically hypnotized by the taller teen on the green screen. He blinks at the boy before his eyes widen with cognizance and his jaw drops. “Oh my God, he didn’t do anything to you! You just thought he was hot!”

“What?” The young male screeches in horror at the accusation completely red in the face. “Dick- Holy shit no! NO!”

“My little brother got a case of the gays.”

“Oh my God stop! No, We are not doing this and you are wrong-”

“Timmy, why didn’t you just say so? I wouldn’t have yelled at him if that was the case.”

_I'm like the ringleader_

_I call the shots (call the shots)_

_I'm like a firecracker_

_I make it hot_

_When I put on a show_

_I feel the adrenaline moving through my veins_

_Spotlight on me and I'm ready to break_

_I'm like a performer, the dance floor is my stage_

_Better be ready, hope that you feel the same_

“Dick, I don’t! That is not what was happening!” Tim shouts upon his adoptive older brother’s deaf ears as the other’s mind has settled on his false conclusion.

“You like ‘em strong huh? Well, that shouldn’t be hard to work with. I know a few guys around your age that perfectly fit the bill.”

“Dick are you really trying to set me up right now!?”

“YES!”

_All eyes on me in the center of the ring_

_Just like a circus_

_When I crack that whip, everybody gon' trip_

_Just like a circus_

_Don't stand there watching me, follow me_

_Show me what you can do_

_Everybody let go, we can make a dance floor_

_Just like a circus_

Jonathan and Conner do their best to follow the dance moves but it’s obvious that Conner is the more experienced one as the younger is struggling to keep up. The child doesn’t seem to be bothered by his low score and both are equally matched in unbridled enthusiasm. The two of them have the same stupid smile upon their faces as they move their bodies to the beat of the music. Jon definitely hit his head when one of the dance moves required him to drop to the floor but it was fun so he didn’t really care; it’s not like he could get hurt anyways. 

_There's only two types of guys out there_

_Ones that can hang with me, and ones that are scared_

_So baby I hope that you came prepared_

_I run a tight ship so, beware_

_I'm like the ringleader_

_I call the shots (call the shots)_

_I'm like a firecracker_

_I make it hot_

_When I put on a show_

“You’re doing pretty good for your first time!” Conner praises as he sticks his rear out from side to side with the music. 

“Thanks!” Jon replies, doing his best to perform a complicated maneuver with his hands and failing.

_I feel the adrenaline moving through my veins_

_Spotlight on me and I'm ready to break_

_I'm like a performer, the dance floor is my stage_

_Better be ready, hope that ya feel the same_

_All eyes on me in the center of the ring_

_Just like a circus_

_When I crack that whip, everybody gon' trip_

_Just like a circus_

_Don't stand there watching me, follow me_

_Show me what you can do_

_Everybody let go, we can make a dance floor_

_Just like a circus_

_Let's go_

_Let me see what you can do_

_I'm runnin' this (like, like, like, like a circus)_

_Yeah_

_Like a what? (like, like, like, like a circus)_

“Are we seriously going to let Jon keep doing this? He just did an ass drop for heaven’s sake! Also, he’s right there and we’ve been looking for him for hours!” Kara hisses at the brothers while Damian watches.

“He’s terrible at it. We should let him continue to embarrass himself as punishment for making me worry.” He glares, crossing his arms while still in Grayson’s hold. “Let him bring shame upon your entire bloodline.”

Dick shrugs and points at the boys dancing. “Let them have their fun. We know where they are now so it’s not like we won’t have time to lecture him later. Besides, the other kid doesn’t seem to be dangerous.”

_All eyes on me in the center of the ring_

_Just like a circus_

_When I crack that whip, everybody gon' trip_

_Just like a circus_

_Don't stand there watching me, follow me_

_Show me what you can do_

_Everybody let go, we can make a dance floor_

_Just like a circus_

_All the eyes on me in the center of the ring_

_Just like a circus_

_When I crack that whip, everybody gon' trip_

_Just like a circus_

_Don't stand there watching me, follow me_

_Show me what you can do_

_Everybody let go, we can make a dance floor_

_Just like a circus_

The boys finish their song and Jonathan nearly falls over from exhaustion but still has enough energy left in him to double high-five the older teen before Conner goes to grab both of their stuff. After strapping Jonathan back into his leash he puts on his jacket and returns his glasses before placing the boy back onto his shoulders. They’re about to leave the store when the two are stopped by a furious Kara who looks like she’s about to punch the teenager in the face. 

“Lady, what do you want from me?” Conner groans annoyingly, turning around to face her. “We really have to go somewhere and we’ve already had enough detours.”

“That’s my cousin.” She states pointing at Jon sternly. “Just put him down, and no one gets hurt.”

“Man, all of you are really violent- Wait hold up.” Conner tenses up, studying Kara up and down anxiously before stepping back in fear. “You’re his cousin. Y-y-you-”

He doesn’t even finish his sentence when Kara makes a grab for the red rope attached to Jonathan’s Superman backpack, but he leaps back as if the girl made a move to hurt him. “You’re Supergirl.”

It was like the world froze when the words left the teen’s mouth as everyone except Jonathan, who was playfully kicking his feet from atop Conner, all stared at each other to prepare for battle. After a few seconds of standing off from each other the male holding the second-grader captive rips all of his piercings off, causing the appendage to bleed and startling Jonathan before he’s gone in a literal blink of an eye. Dick drops his little brother in shock as Damian begins screaming wildly at the disappearance of Jonathan when he was only a few feet away from him. 

Kara is already gone, following the teen with her family as fast as she can leaving the only trace of her, a blonde blur shooting out of the toy store and into the sky. She attempts to use her laser vision to shoot the boy out of the sky but is shocked to find it was deflected before it could touch him. “SUPERMAN! SUPERMAN, THEY HAVE JON!” The woman shouts as she weaves between skyscrapers and quickly changes into her uniform, discarding her casual attire on a random rooftop. 

“Why are you following me!?” Conner shouts back as Jonathan is holding on for dear life at the high-speed chase. 

Jon shouts, gripping the boy’s hair tighter. “This explains so much! I knew no normal person could beat that carnival game!”

“Why- YOU’RE KIDNAPPING MY COUSIN, YOU ASSHOLE!” Supergirl screams as she rips an antenna from one of the towers and throws it at Conner only for it to bounce off some sort of invisible force field. 

“What?! No, I’m not! I’m dropping him off at the Daily Planet- Oof!” He grunts as it suddenly feels as though he hit a brick wall in the middle of the sky. 

It was clearly not a brick wall because brick walls don’t usually have the House of El symbol embroidered on their chests. Large hands tightly grip Conner’s forearms as Kara catches up to swipe Jonathan away into her arms. The duo flies up to the roof of the planet and lands with each boy in their clutches as Conner struggles to escape the Man of Steel with the iron grip on him. 

“Jon, why didn’t you use your signal to call us! Do you know how worried you made us!?” Supergirl screams hugging the boy in a tight embrace and rocking him in her muscular arms. 

“Bu’ I wasn’t in danger. We were going to find you so it wasn’t like something bad was going to happen.” Jon pouts as the weight of what he’s done starts to settle in on him. “Oh… Wait, now I see the problem. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to make anyone worry.”

She pats him on the had comfortingly and tells him, “You’re a good boy, but by Rao are you dumb sometimes.” 

“Does this mean we can’t go out anymore? Conner and I found out Metropolis is actually really fun! I wanna show Dami some of the places we went to.” Jon asks shyly knowing he’s already in a lot of trouble but doesn’t want to ruin the day even more for his friend. 

“Just a minute, first we have to deal with this delinquent,” Superman says as he glares at Conner is becoming paler by the minute from stress. “What were you doing with Jon?”

“Lemme go, please let me go!” Conner begs, kicking his legs against with enough force that the man actually feels pain from it. “I didn’t do nothin’! Just let me go! Just let me go and you’ll never see me ever again! Please let me go!” 

“Hold on kid, I’m not going to hurt you.” The costumed man tries to console. “If I let you go you’re just going to run off to who knows where and you’re starting to bring more questions than answers. Just answer me honestly and then I’ll let you go. Don’t even think about lying to me cause I’ll know.”

The teen appears to calm down at those words but is still clearly prepared to keep fighting if he felt the need to. The boy nods his head slowly while biting the inside of his cheek and averting his eyes away from the superhero. “Y-Yeah. Just as long as you’ll let me leave.”

“Good.” Superman breaths, taking one hand off of the other and running his hand tiredly through his hair. “It’ll only be a few minutes. Firstly, why was Jon with you?”

“He followed me. I- I didn’t make him do it, he just did it!”

Kara facepalmed as Jon nods to back up his claim. “He ran away from me so I chased after him!”

“Joooooooon, whyyyyyyyyy?” The female hero bemoans exasperatingly covering her face. “You’re going to kill me!”

“We can get to that later Supergirl, one interrogation at a time,” Superman says, still staring down the teen. “I heard you say you were taking him here. Why?”

Conner fidgets nervously as he tells the man about his day. “We- I was originally going to take him back to the museum where we met but we got… Uh… We got distracted. Like- A lot. There was an ice cream truck and a mall with a theme park, and then we got hungry, then my dad was looking for me and we got on a bus. Then we saw his mom and he said he wasn’t allowed near that place so we decided to head to where Jon said she worked.”

“So… you accidentally took a child you just met around Metropolis… by yourselves… with no adult supervision… Because you both got distracted? Am I understanding this correctly?” He says slowly making sure he didn’t misinterpret anything. Conner nods in response causing Superman to sigh in a way only a father could. “And when Supergirl found you and Jon, why did you just not leave him with her. It looks like you somehow know the two are related so I’m just a tad bit confused why you still ran to the Daily Planet when you could have stopped your little adventure right then and there.”

The two boys' faces go blank at the sentence and look at each other for a moment before both face-palming. “Oooohhh my gosh I could have done that! I didn’t even think about that.”

“I didn’t think about it either!” Jon shouts, throwing his hands up in the air at their foolishness. “We made this so much harder on ourselves!”

“I’m surrounded by idiots.” Kara groans still covering her face.

Clark laughs and shakes his head at the light-hearted absurdity of the situation and smiles at the boys. “Well, it sure seemed like at least someone had fun. Just one more question before I let you go.”

Conner brightens up at the thought of being released and eagerly nods his head with his hands clasped together in some sort of praying gesture. “Yes! Of course, anything!”

“Why do you have kryptonite in your hands?”

The teen’s face drops as he looks at the green piercings he ripped from his now healed ear with a forlorn expression and instead of answering Conner immediately attempts to fight out of the grip again. “No, just let me go! Just forget I exist!”

“You also have powers. That can’t be ignored-”

“DAAAD! DAAAD HELP ME! DAD, MERCY, PLEASE HELP ME!” Conner beseeches to the sky, crying as his irises begin to turn red. “I’M SORRY I LEFT! JUST HELP ME! DAD!”

“Kid, you’re not in trouble- Oof!” Superman tries to explain but is kicked in the face. “Stop fighting, I’m not going to hurt you. Just settle down and- WOAH!” 

The hero quickly moves his head to the side as a beam of heat vision threatens to lobotomize him. It gives Conner enough time to slip from his fingers but not enough time to fully escape as Supergirl, who put Jon down safely away from the edge, tackles him to the ground with his hands behind his back. She presses his face into the concrete while she wraps her ankles around the teen’s legs to stop his kicking as he was already beginning to crack the roof of the building with his strength. 

“If you don’t stop, you’re going to break your limbs!” She shouts as Superman attempts to pry his cousin off of the young man. 

“Supergirl, he’s just scared! You’re hurting him!”

“He almost killed you!” She shouts back. “Do you know how many people have heat vision that strong? Only us! He’s dangerous!”

“I-I’m not! I just want to go home!”

“Kara stop!” Jon yells trying to push the young woman off of his new friend. “Kara, let him go!” 

While the super-family is scuffling with each other over the frightened teenager none of them pay attention to the army of drones descending upon the roof of the Daily Planet until the swarm becomes too big to ignore. Everyone freezes at the sea of green and purple robots before but before Kara can shoot them out of the sky with her eyes one of them with a speaker on it flies up to them. It hovers there for a second before an extremely long tired sigh reverberates through the machine. 

“Superman.”

“Luthor.” The Kryptonian growls back with a ferocity Jonathan has never heard from his father before and the man quickly shoves Jonathan behind him.

“Don’t bother, I already know about the boy. Besides, even if I didn’t you know I’m aware of your identity, Kent.” The deep voice on the other end explains. “It comes with the territory of knowing each other as long as we have but you knew that, didn’t you?” 

“Why are you here, Luthor?” He hisses glaring daggers at the drone. 

“I’m not here to fight you. All I want is the teenager that savage is crushing beneath her.” Lex demands in an extremely condescending tone.

“So this is your doing!” Kara accesses but not yielding herself. 

Another sigh escapes the speakers. “In a way, the responsibility for this shameful fiasco could all be placed on me. Just get off the child and this will all be over.”

“What do you want with him?” Superman asks as Jon peaks over his father’s shoulder in awe.

He’s heard so much about Superman’s arch-nemesis but he’s never seen the man other than the newspaper articles and occasional interviews. He guesses that he’s still never seen the man but he’s talking directly to them so it’s more than nothing. Though that doesn’t really help Jon to understand why he’s here now- wait a darn second.

“You’re Conner’s dad!” Jon declares pointing at the robot shocking his father and cousin. 

“At least one of you has a brain,” Luthor replies as Kara jumps off of the teen with a dumbfounded expression. 

“Someone was willing to fuck you!?” She shouts at the robot as Conner runs behind it; as if the tiny flying metal would protect him.

“That was unnecessary.” 

Superman’s eyes turn scarlet at the news and ask in a calm but angry tone, “Luthor, why does your son have Kryptonian powers? Have you been experimenting on your own child?”

“Superman, that is hardly prominent to the current issue at hand.” The robot turns around to face the terrified male who has closed in on himself, wrapping his torso with his arms. “See son, this is what I said would happen if you left home. Why must you always pester me after everything I have done for you? Mercy even took time out of her day to go and search for that Superman shirt you wanted, yet this is how you repay us? ”

“I’m sorry.” He mumbles not looking directly at the device dejectedly. “I wasn’t thinking. I just wanted to go outside like people do in the movies-” 

“Conner Alexander Luthor, I’ve told you time and time again that the garbage you insist on watching is making you lose brain cells. I trust that you can make your way home so that we may speak in private.”

“But you let Lena outside-” Conner begins to argue but is quickly shut down by enraged shoutings.

“Lena has proven she can take care of herself without causing a scene! You will come back home right now and stop trying to quarrel with me when you’re already in a mountain of trouble!”

The boy closes in on himself again as he stares down at his designer sneakers shamefully. “Yes, Dad.”

“Expect Mercy to also have a few choice words with you.”

He sighs and drones out disappointed. “I know.”

The device bobs as if it were nodding at the teenager’s compliance. “Good. Now say good-bye to your little friend. I doubt you’ll ever be seeing each other again so get it out now.” 

Sky blue eyes widen at the unperceived generosity as Conner didn’t expect his father to allow him to say his farewells. He nods as the drones all turn to face Jonathan and creeps the little boy out to no end. Conner cautiously steps forward but the child beats him to the punch by rushing past his father and tightly hugging the teenager at the waist; the highest place he can reach. The teen smiles sadly and ruffles the boy’s hair fondly. “Bye Jon. It was really fun to hang out with you while it lasted.”

He rubs his face into the other’s muscle shirt and murmurs a sorrowful, “I’m sorry I got you in trouble with your dad.” 

“No, you didn’t do anything. I kinda did it to myself.” Conner reassures with a lighthearted chuckle before going back to his gentle expression. “It was pretty fun; almost like having a little brother. Trust me, little brothers are a million times cooler than sisters.”

“Then you were kinda like a cool older brother!” Jon cheers smiling up at the boy. 

Conner lets his grin last only a few seconds longer before morphing into a stoic and very Luthor-like demeanor as he lets Jon go and lifts himself off of the roof to fly back to the dismantled Lex-Corp tower in the horizon. Most of the green and purple drone army follows the teenager leaving only the machine with the speaker behind as it rotates to face the Kryptonians. “I know this isn’t over Superman, but if you would allow me some time to punish my son I’ll be open to discussing the questions you have about him at a later date.”

Superman steps closer to the camera with a stern glare and a firm hand on his son’s shoulder. “How much later?”

It flies higher into the sky and announces, “You know where I’ll be.” Then goes off in the same direction the other robots went to. 

The three people on the roof of the Daily Planet watch the disappearing figures until they aren’t able to anymore as what they all experienced fades into an apprehensive atmosphere. Kara is the first to break the line of sight as she kneels down to check over her baby cousin for any injuries. Jon is the next to shake the tense aura off for the time being and nervously asks his older cousin, “So… Can we still go to the mall? I bet Dami has never ridden a roller coaster before!”

She facepalms for what feels like the tenth time in the past five hours and looks to her cousin for answers. The man is still staring into the distance with an unreadable expression when he snaps back to the current situation by his child pulling on his cape. He smiles at the boy and fixes his black hair as he answers Kara’s question.

“Sure you can Sport. Just know when you get home your mother and I will have a very long talk with you about stranger danger.”

“Aw, man.” Jon pouts at his foreseeable future but can’t be too upset seeing as his punishment could be worse.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The art.  
> I'm just embracing the chaos at this point. The first pic is based on me just trying to not do any line art and just straight to coloring. I like it but I hate the BG. That was not fun and I didn't want to do a blank color. The second picture is based on late 90's early 2000's aesthetic so I tried to make it match. I probably didn't succeed but at least y'all know what I was going for! 
> 
> Conner.  
> I based this Conner's personality on his original comic variation mixed with the nativity of the Young Justice cartoon Conner and then mixed him with an upbringing with Lex Luthor. This Conner... well for lack of a better term is a fucking idiot. He was raised on TV and the internet and has no applicable social skills due to being locked away all of his life. Also, while he has the cognition of a well-developed teenager he's also a literal five-year-old. He doesn't have any life experience. This bitch is younger than Jon. I decided to play on that so he's going to be highly out of character. Or maybe in character? His character has always been a tad inconsistency which is normal for comic so I don't mind. Either way this is for fun so ya know.
> 
> For those who are disappointed that he didn't get enough time with Tim... Don't worry about it. Trust me, he'll be back for the insanity.
> 
> Sorry for any grammar mistakes as always and I'll hopefully find them all. I can never seem to capture them all before editing them. It's probably because I get so used to my writing after a while I don't notice until it's too late. 
> 
> Thank you all for reading and I hoped y'all liked it!
> 
> Next Chapter: Damian and Jon discuss the concept of normality and contemplate the meaning of life. (No, really)


	21. Shopping Soothes the Soul (Part 1)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jonathan returns to the city of Gotham to hang out with his friend only to find Damian's progress going the wrong direction.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm back with chapter 21! It's only been... three days since my last upload so not much of a break. 
> 
> I didn't even realize in the last chapter that I hit +200k words and I'm just like... wow, thank god I don't have a life stopping me from writing this. This is such an accomplishment because I can barely hit +1k words in an essay for school. 
> 
> Thank you for everyone who reads this story because it gives me so much freaking steam to just keep writing. I don't lose motivation but the speed at which I write varies. Thank you so much for liking this! 💖 I hope y'all enjoy this chapter.

Jonathan Samuel Kent knew very well what love was; It was the feeling that made him feel good and care about others. There wasn’t an exact moment in his life where he had to discover what love was, nor was there a time he’s never felt it. The boy loves a great many things and even more people than he could count. That wasn’t to say that he didn’t have an affliction for other less compassionate emotions, but all of his actions are driven by the desire to care for the world around him. 

The son of Superman knew what love was, however, that doesn’t mean he understood all that the powerful emotion entailed. Every emotion in the spectrum was not delegated to good and evil; As any member of any Lantern Corps worth their ring would be quick to tell. Love can make people do many things that could harm others and themselves. One negative of love is an obsession. 

Obsession dominates the being it possesses and causes whoever is under its spell to do things they wouldn’t do under normal circumstances. To have one’s entire mind enveloped by one thing is a terrifying sensation, but those who love the target of their affections cannot help but yearn for more; common sense be damned. Obsession isn’t always like how the media portrays. It isn’t always this all-consuming sensation that takes over the victim’s life; It can be but not for everyone. Not everyone’s manifestation of their attraction will force them to stalk their victim or make a shrine dedicated to whatever they love delusional greatness. 

Sometimes obsession is a dark lingering emotion deep within the heart. It creeps up in bouts at seemingly random times and hits hard before settling down into nothingness. One minute everything will be fine and the obsessor will not even give a thought about their fancy, and the next it will be the only thing they care about. Obsession is not only relegated to love, yet the emotion is made more dangerous and unpredictable when the two become associated. 

Jonathan doesn’t know when or how he became obsessed with Damian Wayne, still he does know that he cares deeply about him. He wouldn’t call it an obsession even though that’s what the therapist lady his parents take him to on Sundays calls it. He would say he tends to be more lenient with ill-fitting behavior when it comes to the older boy rather than anyone else. Jon would also admit that he tends to lose his composure around the other easier. 

“Do you want to tell me about your day today, Jon?” The bleached blonde woman asks the seven-year-old who is doing his best to sink into the plastic-covered couch of the child therapist’s office in Star City. 

“Nu.” Jon pouts in a muffled tone while pressing his face into the cushion. 

“Jon-”

“I dun’ wanna.” He huffs flipping off of his stomach to turn the professional. “You said that you wouldn’t make me do anything and I don’t want to talk about it.”

The woman just continues to give him a reassuring smile even though the boy believes she’s probably angry with him. She doesn’t look or feel angry but Jon just thinks she has to be; he’s been a real bad kid. So bad that his parents called for an emergency session on a weekday for him.

“That’s fine, I just wanted to ask, but you don’t have to answer.” His therapist reassures as she folds her hands over the coffee table between them. “Do you want the teddy bear?”

That question just causes Jon to pout harder. “Mrs. Queen, I’m not a baby. I don’t need the stupid bear.”

She chuckles lightheartedly and playfully smacks her forehead and almost knocks off her cat-eye glasses in the process. “I’m so sorry, I was being silly.” She reaches down to a box of stuffed animals to pull out a stuffed corgi with adorable button eyes. “The bear is for babies. Here you go, Jon!”

The child gleefully swipes the plushie into his arms and hugs it tightly swaying side to side. He immediately feels better to the point he’s comfortable sitting up. He’s still upset but getting to hug a soft doggie makes everything better; it reminds him of Krypto. Jon has only been able to visit his precious dog when he visits his grandparent’s home since that’s where the super dog lives now. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” Mrs. Queen says before standing from her chair to a small black refrigerator with colorful alphabet magnets adorned on it to pull out two juice boxes. She hands one to Jonathan before sitting back down and puncturing the top of her own carton with her straw. “We have a whole hour to ourselves before I take you back out to your parents. What do you want to do? I have some games we can play or we can talk about something else that might be bothering you.”

“Nothing is bothering me!” Jon groans loudly, tucking his knees up on the couch and resting his chin on the head of the squishy toy. “I beat one kid in the face and now people think I have a problem! I don’t have a problem!”

The therapist doesn’t even pause at the declaration as she takes a long sip from her fruit punch before replying, “No one here is saying you have a problem. Why do you think that?”

“I don’t think so! Everyone is just saying that!”

“And who is everyone?”

Jon holds out his right hand and sticks a finger out for every person he gloomily lists off. “My school probably. The Headmaster. You. My parents. I wouldn’t be here if they didn’t think I had a problem.”

“Did they tell you that?” She asks in a reserved but concerned manner.

“I think the Headmaster did but they didn’t say it to my face. I hear them tell my mom and dad in the front office.” The boy answers fiddling with the juice box in hand before morosely sipping from it. 

The blonde stands up once again from her seat and sits down next to Jonathan, putting a reassuring hand on his back. “Well, I don’t think you have a problem, Jon. You’re a very good kid furthermore if you did something like that then there must have been a reason.”

“You think it was good I punched Mathew in the face?” He asks, stunned by Mrs. Queen’s response. 

She shakes her head but her smile doesn’t falter. “No, I don’t think that punching this Mathew character in the face was good. I do however believe that you have a reason to do what you did and that you know better.”

“I guess.”

“I also think you can help me understand. Remember, you don’t have to tell me anything you don’t want to.” Jon doesn’t know what to say so instead of answering her he presses the top of his forehead against his knees to complete his transformation into a human ball. A few reassuring pats on his back alert the boy to the fact that the woman didn’t just disappear because he can’t see her. “That’s fine. How about we talk about something else; What are you going to do tomorrow?”

Jon groans frustratingly because he doesn't even want to think about Saturday anymore as he’s reminded that he’s most likely going to be grounded. “I was going to play at Dami’s house with my mom but I don’t think I’m going to be allowed anymore.”

“Why not?”

“Cause I punched Mathew in the face… like a lot.” He explains again getting real tired of having to relive the awful memory. “There’s no way my parents are going to allow me to play with Dami after that! I’m still surprised they let us still be friends after the whole Roulette thingy!”

“What does hurting Mathew have to do with Damian?”

“Cause he’s the reason I punched him!” Jon shouts clearly angry but his voice is still muffled due to his posture, so it comes out as more of a whine. “He was making fun of me and I ignored it bu’ then he started makin’ fun of Dami and how it’s weird he’s always hanging around me cause he’s a big kid. He said that he’s too dumb to make friends his own age and that’s the only reason he’s friends with a dumb baby like me. That doesn’t even make sense because Mathew and I are the same age so he’s calling himself a baby too!”

She pats his back again and states. “That is a very rude thing to say to you.”

“I know right?!” The child cries, throwing his head back against the plastic cushion before unfurling his body to properly slouch in the seat, white corgi plush hugged securely. 

“And that is a very mean thing to say about Dami.” She agrees, nodding her head attentively when a small finger is swiftly pointed in her direction accusingly. 

“Hey, only I can call him that!” Jon glares with puffed cheeks. 

Mrs. Queen just giggles at his action instead of being mad and sets her own hands atop of his to set it back down. “Oops, sorry. That’s a very mean thing to say about _Damian_. It’s not true either.”

“Exactly.” He huffs for a minute then his previously haughty expression melts into complete disappointment. “I didn’t want to hit him.” He mumbles looking down to the rainbow blocked carpet pattern below them. “Mom and Dad always tell me to ignore bullies when they make fun of me, but he made fun of my best friend.”

The woman nods in understanding then asks, “Do you always punch people who make fun of your best friends?”

Jon thinks for a moment before carefully shaking his head side to side. “...No. I never punched bullies when they made fun of Kathy when she was my best friend even though it made me really mad to hear them talking to her like that.” There’s a fondness in his voice he can’t seem to shake off. “I never really had to. She punched them herself and then I would have to stop her.” 

“So you only punch people who make fun of Damian.”

He scrunches his face for a moment but his answer comes out in a doubtful tone. “I guess? His brothers call him names all the time, but I never felt like punching them even though I knew he didn’t like it when they called him them.”

“Do you think his brothers’ words are as mean as Mathew’s?”

“No. Kinda?” He shrugs. “It doesn’t feel as mean but Dami doesn’t like it. I think they’re just teasing him like how Kara teases me sometimes.”

“Mmm…” Mrs. Queen hums and takes another leisurely sip from her juice. “Jon, do you regret hurting that boy?”

Blue eyes blink dumbfoundedly at such an obvious question. Why else would he be in this office all moppy if he didn’t regret his actions? “Of course I do! I don’t like hurting people and I hurt Mathew.”

“That’s a good thing. It means next time someone makes fun of your friend again you’ll remember this feeling and stop yourself.” She says simply and ruffles his hair in a fond manner.

Jon flops to his side and drapes himself over the couch dramatically with an exasperated sigh. “What if I don’t? I was really really mad.”

“You’ll just have to do your best to remember how much you regretted hurting someone.”

“I hope.” He sighs once again as he drinks his juice like one would with hard liquor. 

The rest of their session was mostly filled with the two of them playing board games together without much more talking. It was clear the child was still hung up on what happened but Mrs. Queen didn’t press on the issue much after he stopped talking about it. Once the hour was up She sent Jon to sit in the lobby while she talked to his parents for a bit. 

Clark and Lois shook the therapist’s hands and sat down at her desk away from the sitting area where Jon was stationed earlier. “Thank you for seeing us on such notice Dianah.” Lois greets taking a seat at one of the two wooden chairs. 

“Any time Lois.” The blonde replies as she folds her fingers atop the wooden tabletop. 

“Do he tell you why he did it? It’s just so unlike him-”

Dianah holds a hand out to stop her friend and tells him, “Clark, while I am supposed to tell you about his sessions by law it’s still in poor taste to press for information like that.”

The man sheepishly scratches the side of his cheek and apologies for his rudeness. “Sorry. I just… There’s so much we don’t know and he won’t tell us. I don’t know how we’re supposed to help him if we don’t know what’s wrong. I still don’t know what that arm thing he keeps threatening Damian with is.”

“He’ll tell us when he’s ready. Trying to force information out of him will only close him off more.” She explains as she leans forward and puts on a more serious expression, but nothing dire. “Now, we’re here to talk about his altercation at school?” The two parents nod silently in anticipation. “It’s nothing to worry about too much. The other boy was making fun of his friend and Jon sought to defend him.”

“With his fists?” Clark asks, still astounded by his son’s actions. 

“With his fists,” Dianah repeats affirmatively. 

The brunette woman lets out a great sigh of relief and blurts, “Oh thank God, for a second I thought he was developing an anger issue-”

“Lois!” Her husband scolds but Lois just continues talking. 

“I mean it’s not good that he did it, but we all got into our fair share of fights in school. I remember socking a kid so hard in the gut for making fun of Lucy he went to the hospital-”

“Lois no.”

“My dad was pissssed… at the other kid. I got ice cream.”

“Oh my goodness Lois-”

“Oh relax Clark.” The woman laughs sitting up straight with a small smirk threatening to break the corners of her lips. “I’m still going to scold him. He shouldn’t be going around punching other kids, but that doesn’t mean I won’t be cheering him on inside.”

Dianah laughs at the couple but still shakes her head disapprovingly. “Encouraging such behavior is not ideal but what Jon was feeling was completely normal and understandable for his age. I suggest having your own talk with him, but be careful not to villainize his actions. He already regrets what he did.” 

“Thank you, we will.” The two parents nod and begin to stand up from their seats when Dianah stops them.

“There is another subject I would like to discuss briefly before you two leave.” She states handing them a sheet of paper from inside her desk. “More like a homework assignment. I would like you to… how should I put this… observe their playdate tomorrow. I know you’ll be supervising them already but I want you to watch those two when they’re alone. How they interact with each other, how they talk to each other, and more importantly how Jonathan responds to Damian. Intervene only when necessary and then report back to me during Jonathan’s regularly scheduled session on Sunday.”

“I can do that.” Lois nods reading the assignment in her hands before folding it up and stuffing it into her purple clutch purse. 

“Okay then, I’ll call Bruce and ask him to do the same for Damian. I’ll see you two later and if any of you need anything you know my number.” The therapist says shaking their hands once again and waving the two of them off. 

To say that Jonathan was surprised that he’s still allowed to go on his playdate is an understatement. Do his actions have no consequences? He didn’t get any dessert and he’s still grounded from video games, the treehouse, the internet (when it’s not for school), and he’s not allowed to go out in the city for… well a really long time but those are all for other things he did. All of his punishments are getting muddle to the point he doesn’t remember what punishment belonged to which action. He’s getting really confused about what is and isn’t allowed. It’s kind of funny when he thinks about it because before the current school year he’s only ever been grounded once for not doing his farm chores.

His mom pulls up to the Wayne manor in her black sedan after a long, but significantly shorter, drive. He’s grateful yet very confused about where in the world Metropolis was located if Gotham was closer than it was compared to his old home, but still near the ocean. Damian and Bruce walk up to the vehicle in matching black turtlenecks and plain designer jeans just as Lois opens the rear passenger door for her son and the older child has to take a pause and take in what he was seeing. 

He already knew that Jonathan has a terrible habit of wandering off, getting distracted/off-topic, and doing dangerous stunts without thinking about his own safety. It makes perfect sense that his parents would implement drastic tactics to ensure the safety of their sole offspring, but there is a thing he recently learned about called overkill; he believes he’s found the perfect example of it. Jonathan, somehow strapped into all three seatbelts of the back of Lois’ car were tightly wrapped around his booster seat. That was odd enough but when the helmet, bright red life vest, foam knee pads, about 23 reflectors, an ID tag tapped to his forehead with Lois and Clark’s phone number, two child leashes (one backpack and one tied to his belt loop), and a tracking device on his wrist are all put under consideration it was definitely too much. 

“Hi, Dami! Hi Mr. Wayne!” Jon greets normally trying to wave to his friend but the shoulder floaties attached to the safety vest were making that a struggling task. 

While Damian is at a loss for words Bruce clears his throat and greets the child back in a polite manner. “Hello, Jonathan. It seems like you’ve gained some new attire since I last saw you.”

“Wow, I can’t believe you can see my new Batman shirt under all this.” The seven-year-old breaths in amazement as his mom begins the tedious process of unbuckling him.

“And it is a very nice shirt.” The man nods resting a hand on his youngest’s shoulder. “Don’t you think so too Damian?”

Green eyes blink and the boy picks up his metaphorical jaw off the floor before waving politely to his friend while grumbling under his breath. “Father, are we going to ignore the copious amounts of gear adorned on his person?”

“Just keep waving.” He grumbles back at the same frequency if not quieter. 

After what felt like forever Lois finally frees her son who excitedly waddles out of the car, due to his incredibly heavy and fluffy white socks, letting the two Waynes see obnoxiously bright red sneakers that light up rainbow with every step he takes. “Dami, check out my new shoes! Kara bought them for me last week!” 

Damian groans and runs a tan hand down the center of his face before tossing his hands down in defeat. “Okay, I give up. Jonathan, what in the name of every God in existence are you wearing?”

Jon tilts his head in confusion as if he didn’t realize he was committing a fashion atrocity, then lights up with awareness. “Oh! I heard it was cold in Gotham during October, so I put on my Christmas socks! You can’t see but they have snowmen on them.”

“Jonathan, I swear if I didn’t know better I’d think you were doing this to me on purpose.” The older child groans again rubbing the temples of his head in a calming circular motion. “I’m talking about the vest, the helmet, the leashing, the gaudy neon orange plastic-”

“Oooohhh, I get it now. Kara and Daddy put these on me in case something happened. They said Gotham was dangerous.”

Bruce laughs heartily at that sentence before patting Hon on his helmet right where the index card was taped. “Haha, well they don’t have to worry about that. We’re not planning on leaving the manor grounds.”

“Aww…” Jon pouts as he tries to crane his neck down to gaze at his Batman shirt. “And I really wanted to see the city too! I barely got to see any of it the last time we were here. I’m always just driving through it.”

“Or into it,” Damian mutters, crossing his arms. “Come along Jonathan, I need to show you the fruits of my ample labor!” He announces grabbing both of the ropes attached to his friend and pulling him along the path to the front door.

“Weeeee~!”

Unfortunately, the younger child trips up the stairs to the front of the manor causing the child to be callously dragged against the stone below face first. The parents wince at their seemingly cruel interaction and cautiously follow their children inside after exchanging very short greetings to each other. “Do we have to write that one down?” Bruce asks before being harshly elbowed in the ribs by his reporter friend. “I’m kidding, I’m kidding.”

They’re let inside by Alfred, who doesn’t even flinch at Jonathan’s attire like the true professional he is, and is politely welcomed into the castle-like home. The four of them head up the first flight of stairs to Damian’s room then the owner flings the door open with a flourish to reveal it’s significantly more furnished than it was previously. The second-grader picks himself off of the floor once he feels his body stops moving along the mahogany floor and stares at the completely different space before him. 

Before when there were blank beige walls and mismatched wooden furniture is now a well put together space with walls painted Jonathan’s favorite shade of cerulean, Posters of popular movies plastered strategically on every flat surface, an amazing television that nearly filled up an entire wall, a desk with a fancy colorful computer unquestionably meant for playing video games rather than schoolwork, a shelf filled with every Monk-E-Monsters robot created to date, and bedsheets that are confusingly Nightwing-themed. Jon steps into the room, as if testing it, then steps back to look at his friend who is clearly expecting some sort of verbal reaction from him. Welp, Jonathan did say that one of the building blocks for this relationship was trust so…

“Dami, what is this?” Jon groans crossing his arms judgmentally staring into the other’s eyes.

The young assassin frowns at his less than stellar reaction and in a short tone says, “This is what you wanted. You wanted me to learn to be a kid and isn’t a room like this part of it? It’s even filled with things I know you like.” He walks to the shelves filled with robotic apes that are for some reason categorized as monkeys and holds one up to Jonathan. “You like this stupid thing. I’m being a good friend and ticking off a box on the theoretical list to being an average child.” 

“Daaaaaaaaammmmiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii!” Jon groans covering his hands into his face. “You hate everything in this room. You hate all these movies, you hate Monk-E-Monsters, you hate video games, you hate American television, and I know for a fact that you think this desk-” He steps inside and knocks on the sleek black plastic desk where the computer was located. “Is cheap garbage.”

“But you like it! Why are you being so ungrateful after all the trouble I went through for this!?” The older boy snarls in frustration crushing the toy in his hand in half by accident and jabbing cheap shards of plastic into his palms. 

Bruce steps in to tend to the injury his son inflicted on himself but the younger boy holds out his arm to stop him. Jon rolls his eyes at the violent display and begins to take all his protective gear that restricts his movements before marching to his friend and taking his bleeding hand into his own to carefully pluck out the translucent blue shards. He frowns at the scars the injury will most likely lead to and presses the bloody hand to his cheek while looking the boy directly in his emerald eyes. “Dami, you have enough scars and I hate seeing them on you.”

“And I hate seeing blood on your face, even if it’s mine.” The ten-year-old hisses, ripping his hand away from the other’s rosy cheek. The disturbing action and sight was enough to replace his unbridled fury with intense regret. He walks over to his nightstand and pulls out a clean gym towel to begin desperately wiping his blood off the other. “I… Jonathan, what did I do wrong?”

“Dami, you didn’t do anything wrong.” Jon begins as his friend does his best to clean him like the seven-year-old is going to die if he has any crimson on his skin. “It’s just that this room isn’t _you_. This looks like my room if I had a butt-ton of money… except for the bedsheets. I have no idea where those came from.”

Damian sighs and reveals, “It was Grayson’s choice. I didn’t want the Superman sheets and he picked those out to match the color scheme.”

“Of course it was.” The child laughs playfully before becoming serious in his demeanor. “Dami, do you think I want you to be a normal kid?”

“Isn’t that what this is all about? You told me to try and be a good friend to you-”

“Dami, I just want you.” Jon interrupts putting a hand up to the other’s lips so that he can speak. Once he knows the other will be silent he moves his palm to cup the scar on the left side of Damian’s face gently. “If I wanted a normal friend I would go make a normal friend. I want you to love me and not use me for selfish reasons. I want you to care about me the way I care about you. I don’t want you to become someone you aren’t. I didn’t even ask you to be a good person; I suggested it because you were so torn about being my friend if you weren’t. I mean I prefer you not to kill people or hurt others, but I’ll _never_ ask you to be normal. I’ve already made that mistake once.” He reveals before beaming at him earnestly taking his hands away and letting out a humorous chuckle. “Plus, even if you really did want to be a normal kid, which I don’t think you do, your normal isn’t the same as mine. Heck, I don’t think I know what normal is any more.”

Damian stares at Jon for a moment before glaring at his displeasure of the situation, not at his friend. “I never knew what normal was, so I guess we’re finally on equals on something.”

Meanwhile, at the doorway, the two adults are extremely interested as they both realize for what is disappointingly the first time that they’ve never heard how their children talked to each other. “Do… Do they always communicate like this?” The Gothamite billionaire asks even though he doubts the woman has if her agape expression is anything to read into.

“I don’t know. I hate to say it but we’ve never really listened to their conversations. I always thought they were talking about kids’ stuff or becoming Superheroes.” Lois admits watching the child she disliked tends to her son so caringly. “Every time I heard them speak to each other before Damian was always putting down Jon in some way. Have their interactions always been so… comprehensive and slightly off-putting, or is this a recent development?”

The man shrugs and pulls the collar of his wool shirt apprehensively as he watches his child finish using the towel on his companion and begin to fold it around his own hand; as if it was something people just did to themselves. “Your guess is as good as mine, but if you really want to find out I could-”

“Nope, I keep forgetting that you take things like this too seriously. Please don’t go all Dark Knight on my son.” The brunette urges, clasping her hands together in a mock prayer motion as she looks to the heavens. Lavender eyes look back to the boys to find then coiled in a tight embrace confusing her to no end. “And now they're hugging.”

“More like Jon is hugging Damian while Damian is trying not to get blood on him.” Bruce corrects as he sees Damian stick his injured arm far away from the smaller boy while using his other to push against his head. “I’m going to get the first aid kit.” 

“Good idea.”

After he comes back from one of the many bathrooms with an extensive military-grade first-aid kit he dresses his son’s wound while he broods on his bed next to Jonathan. The younger child meanwhile is staring intensely at Damian’s father’s actions as if he’s studying how to do the same for the future. That thought didn’t settle well with Bruce because that meant he thought Damian would keep hurting himself, or that they would do something that required Damian to be injured and need medical assistance. 

Jon watches as the man uses a set of plastic tweezers to pick out the tiny shard fragments that he missed previously before carefully examining the appendage to make sure he got everything. The man sighs as he disinfects the wound, Damian not even flinching at the harsh stinging sensation of the hydrogen peroxide, and states, “Damian, we’ve talked about this. When you’re feeling frustrated…” He pauses and waits for him to finish the sentence. 

The tan child huffs through his nose and begrudgingly says, “We don’t hurt people.” in a manner making it clear he doesn’t beehive in the words but rather just placating the man. 

“Which includes you too. You’re also a person.” Bruce continues as he bandages his hand. 

When he’s finished the father closes the case and sets it down next to Jonathan on the bed who immediately reopens it with childish curiosity. Lois leans down over her son to watch his small hands riffle through the kit and asks, “Whatcha’ doing there Jon; See something interesting?” 

“We used to have one of these but it was a lot smaller.” He tells her as he sticks a cotton ball up his nose for no reason. 

His mother giggles at her silly little boy and takes the white fluff out of her son’s nose. “We still have it, but we just didn’t need to use it.”

“That makes sense.” Jon nods sticking another cotton ball in his other nostril. “We used it back when I was human.”

A nuke could have descended upon them at that very moment and the two parents wouldn’t have been able to move due to the statement freezing them in place. The seven-year-old said it with such nonchalance they would have not even bothered to pay attention if his words weren’t so cold. Jon doesn’t even know what he just said startled the adults around him as he continues to happily kick his legs against the side of Damian’s bed. 

Lois is the first to recover and does her best to give her son a reassuring smile so as to not put him off to the internal screaming she’s doing on the inside. “Jon, what do you mean by that statement?”

Jon blinks at her and replies, “Duh, I’m not human! I’m a Kryptonian! Actually-” He scrunches his face in thought. “I’m both, but that isn’t really human.”

“I see.” The woman says trying to think of a million replies but only coming out with that. “Doesn’t that mean you’re human?”

“I don’t think so.” He shrugs, closing the first aid kit. “If I stab you, you die. If I stab Dami, he dies. If I stab Batman, he dies. If you stab me, the knife breaks. Even if you did manage to stab me all I have to do is take the knife out and I’ll heal. Even if you live you’ll scar just like Dami scars. I won’t.”

Those are some callous words coming out of a child with a cotton ball up his nose the two concluded and Bruce studies Jonathan’s relaxed features then notices that Damian doesn’t appear to react at all; he’s just listening as if what Jon said was normal. He looks back at the younger boy asking, “Jon, do you see yourself as a person?”

The boy blinks again this time with obvious confusion stricken upon his face answering, “Of course I do! That’s a silly question!” He hops up from the mattress to hand Mr. Wayne the first-aid kit and turns to his friend with a smile. “Dami, let’s find stuff to decorate your room with!”

Damian grabs the blue leash still attached to Jonathan’s belt loop and follows him as if he were walking a pet. It takes a moment for the adults to recompose themselves before quietly following the two to wherever they were heading. It was an odd choice for Jonathan to be the one leading Damian around the house seeing as he’s only been inside the manor itself twice meaning that he has no idea what he’s doing. 

Jonathan has also come to this conclusion himself after dragging the other boy around for about five minutes and turns on his heel to face him. “Dami, I don’t know what I’m doing.”

“Yeah, I gathered as much.” He scoffs rolling his eyes at the dumb child. “Why would we traverse through the manor to find objects to decorate my room with? If I wanted something from here I would have already taken it.”

“I dunno.” He shrugs before looking back at the parents. “Can we go to IKEA?”

Bruce stares at the boy amusingly and gives him a jesting grin, “Are you sure about that? I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

“Why not? It’s where all the room stuff is!” Jon questions, tilting his head to the side. 

He laughs and teasingly explains, “Furniture shopping is one of those things that test the boundaries of relationships. Who knows what will happen to your friendship if you were to go shopping together.”

“Furniture shopping is an extensive hurdle people must pass through to test the strength of their bonds?” Damian rewords for himself trying to wrap his brain around the concept.

Seeing how Bruce is clearly just messing with the children Lois joins in with a malicious grin. “Yep. It’s not unusual to hear about couples or roommates who stop talking to each other after one trip to Ikea together. Buuuuuut if you really want to go there…”

“Dami, we’re going to IKEA!” Jon shouts in the same pitch one would use for a war cry and attempts to run down the stairs. 

He doesn’t make it far as his leash goes taunt after some distance causing the boy to fall over his own feet. Damian meanwhile, who is holding onto the leash with an iron grip, is seriously contemplating the pros and cons of this weird western phenomenon. “Jonathan, we have to think about this. If this excursion is really so treacherous it would be better to just shop online-”

“Dami we’re going to IKEA and you can’t change my mind! Our friendship is strong enough to withstand anything. If I can stab myself in the throat for you I think I can go furniture shopping with you without ruining our friendship.” 

Lois cringes at the memory of seeing her little boy do that to himself to save his friend. She remembers when she demanded to see the footage, to know what happened to her son. The reporter was well informed beforehand that it was gruesome, but she never expected her son to be capable of that. 

Damian sighs resigned to the fact his effort would be futile once Jonathan puts his mind to something and reluctantly agrees to go to whatever this cursed furniture store is. “Fine, I’ll go.”

“Are we really going to Ikea?” Lois asks with a raised brow as she looks to her fellow parent. 

The man gives her an affirmative look and gestures to the determined boys. “You heard them, Lois, we’re going to Ikea. Should we go grab all the equipment Jon left in Damian’s room?”

“Nah, I’ll just hold the leash. The rest of that stuff was way too much.” She says looking at her son lovingly. “Besides, if we lose him we got the world’s greatest detective here to go and find him.”

“Don’t you think he’s too old to be wearing that? I thought child leashes were for toddlers.”

“Hey, if you have a better solution for keeping an eye on him without going all Fort Knox on him I’m all ears.” She jokes but is completely serious. “Plus he has that tracker on his wrist so I’ll be able to find him.”

“That’s good.” The billionaire says with an agreeable nod as he faces the duo of kids next to him and watching him expectantly. “We should ask the other’s if they want to go. Can you go ask them for us while we prepare?”

“Understood father.”

“Okie!”

With that, the children run off back in the direction of Damian’s room where everyone else was located. The first door in the family wing belonged to Tim according to Damian and the ten-year-old refuses to be near the teenager’s chamber for some odd reason. “You ask him. I’m not entering that vile abode.”

“Does he not clean his room or something?” Jon asks as he raps his knuckles on the thick dark wood. 

“I’ve only had the displeasure of entering once when I was first integrated into the manor and it was rancid. It was as though Drake never discovered a trashcan in his life.”

“It can’t be that bad, Dami,” Jon reassures with unfounded confidence. 

He doesn’t hear a response so he opens the door just enough that he can peek through the and is immediately met with a scene similar to the boy’s room at Mount Justice. The floor is nonexistent and is just as bad as he assumed Damian anticipated with old moldy food and discarded coffee cups everywhere but that’s not what catches Jonathan’s attention. It wasn’t even the fact that there was no light other than the luminance of a computer monitor and the shine from the ajar door. Heck, Jonathan didn’t even care about the fact that the bed must have been impossible to sleep on due to the stacks of manilla folders.

No, what made Jon stand there in disbelief were the thousands of pictures adorn on his walls of the teenager Jonathan befriended three weeks ago; Conner Alexander Luthor. It was obvious none of those images were taken knowingly by their subject and most shots were blurry as if rushed. The child turns back to Damian, who clearly hasn’t seen what Jonathan had, and tells him, “I’m going inside for a second.”

“Don’t expect me to follow you into that bizarre ecosystem Drake calls a room.”

“That’s fine, it’ll only be a second.”

The moment Damian drops the leash he shoots into the room and closes the door behind him swiftly. He uses the grey collar of his Batman shirt to protect his nose from the rancid smell of moldy food and uses what little light there was from the desktop to try and search for Tim. “Tim? Tim, are you in here? You left your door unlocked.”

At his insistence, a mass of clothes from the corner slowly rises to a bit shorter than Jonathan’s height causing the child to jump in fear before coming to the correct conclusion the other boy was in the pile of questionably clean clothes. Jon uses his hands to dig through the pile until he can see what might be a face partially illuminated underneath some pants. The boy doesn’t seem to be away and the youngest Kent is sure he doesn’t have any coffee to help wake him up. So he does the next best thing, the thing that works in every movie he’s ever seen.

He begins to slap the shit out of him.

He doesn’t like doing this but he has too many questions that need answers NOW. “Tim!” Front hand. “Wake!” Backhand. “Up!” Front hand again. A few more repeats of this finally have the other groggily coming to his senses as he hopes his eyes and is immediately backhanded across the face. 

“Jason, Jay I’m up! Stop!” He shouts pushing the child away from him.

“I’m not Jason, I’m Jon.” He tells him cheerfully as he tries not to stumble back into a tower of half-eaten pizza boxes. “Hi, Tim!”

“Jon?”

“Sorry I hit you but I didn’t have any coffee to give you or cold water to pour on your head.” He apologies as he regains his standing. “I was going to ask if you wanted to come to IKEA with Dami and me but… What the heck is this?!?” He throws his hands up in the air and points to every picture of Conner in the room that is really starting to creep him out.

“Jonathan, is everything fine? Has the stench of Drake’s room suffocated you to death yet?” Damian yells through the door concerned but not quite enough to venture inside.

“I’m fine! Tim is just waking up!” Jon calls out in hopes his friend doesn’t enter the room cause he would definitely freak if he saw this.

“-Tt- It’s 2 o’clock PM, Drake! Get your life together!”

The boney gangly teen stands from his clothes pile wearing his half stripped off Robin uniform and stumbles to a completely different clothes pile as he begins putting on more casual attire; a black button-up shirt, long black khakis, and a red sweater vest. He would have looked really professional if Jon didn’t just watch his man resurrect himself from dirty laundry. Once he’s put together Jon asks his question again. “Tim, what is all this?!”

“Huh?” Tim says as if he just noticed there was another occupant in the room. His eyes widened as he panic whispers, “Jon how did you get in here?!”

“You left your door unlocked you big dummy!” Jon whispers back with a pout. 

“Did anyone else come in here?!”

“I dunno but why do you have so many pictures of Conner?”

Tim takes in a deep breath, something that solidifies the idea that he could probably breathe in poison to Jon, and looks the boy in the eyes. “You remember that thing I borrowed you for two months ago?”

“When you kidnapped me? Dami told me it was kidnapping; not borrowing.”

“It’s technically a surprise adoption.” He corrects running a hand through his hair. “Well, Conner has something to do with the strange things and the visions or blackouts or whatever you call them so I’m studying him!”

Jon nods in understanding and accepts the answer with no questions. “Okay… I mean I don’t get it but it makes sense. My dreams just involve bad things happening to me.”

“That’s sad. That’s really sad.” Tim tells him before tightly clutching his shoulders in a desperate plea. “Anyways you can’t tell anyone about this-”

“Okay.” Jon agrees with no hesitation with complete honesty.

“Okay?”

“Yep. I already knew you were kinda weird after your surprise adoption of me plus you’re not a bad person. I’m also already a part of this and I kinda wanna see where this goes. You probably have a reason for… This.” He waves an arm over a picture of Conner playing videogames with a little blonde girl he doesn’t recognize. “Anyways do you want to come to IKEA?”

Royal blue eyes scrutinize him intensely and seeing that Jonathan is completely earnest about not telling anyone he awkwardly lets him go and cautiously shakes his head. “Uh… No thank you?”

He nods back with a bright smile. “Okay! I’ll go tell Dami!”

The boy runs out of the room and quickly closes the door behind him once more before turning to his friend only to be met with a bottle of Febreze Sanitizing Fabric Refresher in the face. “D-Dami what the heck!?” Jon spits feeling some of the liquid enter his mouth.

“Just making sure you don’t catch anything Jonathan, this is for your own good.” The older boy growls in the middle of his unrelenting disinfectant attack. One the boy was thoroughly dampened by the chemical mixture Damian hums in approval before tossing the bottle back at the hallway table where he most likely acquired it. “Okay, now what were you going to say?”

“I think it’s in my eyes!”

“You’ll be fine.”

After a few minutes of flushing his face with water and drying himself off in the hallway bathroom, he comes back out to Damian once again to tell him the news. “Tim doesn’t want to come to IKEA with us.”

The older boy is relieved at the answer as he didn’t want to spend any time near his older brother. “Good. Now let’s ask the other wards. Hopefully, it won’t take as long this time.”

The two walk over to the next closest room which was Cassandra’s and Jon knocks on the door. The teenage girl opens the door wearing a black tank top and leggings with her short black hair in pigtails. She stares kindly at Jon but doesn’t say anything so the boy decides to talk first. “Hi Cass! Wanna go to IKEA with us?”

“Why do you keep screaming the name?” Damian asks Jon because he keeps emphasizing the words in a strange way. 

“Because it’s in all capital letters. That’s how you’re supposed to say it.”

“Neither of our parents did that.”

“Well then maybe they’re just reading it wrong.” He concludes turning back to the girl. “So do you want to come with us?”

She stares at the two for a few more seconds before a short and curt, “Yes.” escapes her lips.

“Yay!” Jon cheers as she goes back into her room to put on her shoes and put on an extremely clashing neon yellow jacket above her black attire. 

“I ready!”

The three of them pass Damian’s room and are about to knock on the wooden door of Jason’s room when a very disgruntled roar answers them before any of them even asks their question. “I HAVE A MID-TERM, I’M NOT GOING TO FREAKING IKEA!”

Jon didn’t know how he knew what he was going to ask but didn't inquire further as he cheers the man on. “Okay! Have fun!”

“I WON’T!”

At the end of the hall was Dick Grayson’s room whose door was already wide open so all three kids are able to see the man flip himself over on what looks like a portable gym bar bolted to the ceiling. Cassandra and Jon both clap as the adult swings off and does a front flip in front of them when he sees them in the entryway. “Hi Dick, that looks fun.”

He ruffles Jonathan’s hair fondly before slowly lifting it off and perplexedly cringing at the odd residue of deodorizer on it. He wipes his palm on the side of his navy blue gymnastic pants before greeting the newcomer. “Hi Jon. It is very fun, but I wouldn’t try this if I were you. Trained professionals only.” Damian rolls his eyes at that but doesn’t say anything; opting to just cross his arms and glare at the man. “So what’s up?”

“We’re going to IKEA!” Jon announces rolling on the balls of his feet.

“IKEA?”

“IKEA! Wanna come with us?”

“Sure, but why are you going? There’s already a lot of furniture in this house and I just helped Damian decorate his room.” Dick questions heading back into the room to grab a towel to wipe off his hand and the sweat on his body. 

“Dami’s room is terrible for him and he needs to change it.” The child describes with a frown. “It doesn’t represent him at all.”

Dick looks to Damian who doesn’t meet him in the eye then to his newly injured hand before looking back to Jon. “Well okay, let me change out of my work out clothes and I’ll meet you guys at the door.” 

They agree and leave to head to the main entrance of the manor after taking a detour by Damian’s room to pick up Jon’s backpack. Once all three of them make it to the lobby they see the doors open Where Lois and Alfred were putting Jonathan’s car seat in the rear of what looks like a really old black limo. It was in pristine condition but the design definitely not from a time either of the three existed during. 

From the other side of the car, Bruce Wayne notices the three and waves at them while walking around the front. He stops at the bottom of the stone stairs to greet them. “Since it’s going to be Little Jonathan’s first time in Gotham I thought I’d drive you myself in style. Isn’t it beautiful? She’s a classic 1975 Mercedes-Benz 600 Pullman Maybach.”

“Wow! I’ve never ridden in a limo before!” Jon squeals excitedly, attempting to run up to the car but is stopped by both the rope on his belt and his backpack. 

“-Tt- Jonathan, it’s just a car, have some dignity.” Damian grunts, reining the boy in and holding him up simultaneously. 

Bruce tsks at his son’s ignorance and states, “It’s not just a car. It is a work of art.”

“Bruce, you’re old man.” Cassandra remarks dryly but has a spirited smirk on her lips. 

“I’m not old, I’m still in my thirties.” He chortles patting the girl on the shoulder. 

“You’re ancient.”

“Haha, sure I am.” Bruce walks over to his son and puts a comforting hand on his head. “So is it just gonna be you three?”

Jon notices that Damian is extremely uncomfortable with his father for a reason he can’t understand so he puts himself between Batman and his son answering, “No, Dick is coming too, but he’s changing clothes.”

If the father noticed Jonathan’s actions he didn’t hint at it as he lets go of his son and puts his hands back to his sides. “Oh, then we’re going to be here for hours if that’s the case.”

Cassandra and Bruce share a laugh together at some sort of inside joke the boys don’t understand and Damian leads them to the car just in time for Jonathan’s seat to be situated properly. Alfred greets them and begins to place the boy in the backseat much to his amazement and disappointment. He saw some strange seats in the middle facing the opposite direction and was hoping to sit in one of those. 

“Are you sure you want to do it, Alfred? I can buckle him in.” Lois asks as she watches experienced hands situate the squirming seven-year-old inside. 

“It’s my pleasure Mistress Kent. Seeing that all of the children Master Bruce is keen on taking in are well above booster seat age this probably the closest I’ll ever get to experience something like this.” He elaborates with a smile as Damian seats himself directly across from Jon. “Though I ought to be careful of what I wish for. I say that and my next grandchild will be an infant. God only knows how much work I have on my plate already.”

The woman grins and teasing hits the older British man on the back. “Hey, it could be worse; He could buy an orphanage.”

“Don’t jinx it, Mistress Kent. If that were to happen I may never be able to rest.”

The two of them laugh and Alfred goes on check on the youngest Wayne’s safety before nodding approvingly at the form. Jon swings the shiny wooden tray between them wildly and looks to his mother. “Mom! Mom! This car is so cool! It has curtains and a table and a TV-”

“Yes, yes. This car is very nice.” She agrees leaning inside to kiss him on the side of his head and hold the table still. “Let’s not break anything. This car is very expensive.”

That statement immediately has Jon’s hands reeling away from everything as he didn’t even think about that. He’s suddenly more conscious of the fact that if he breaks it he has to buy it and he owes a lot of people money; Damian, Conner… Well, that’s only two people but they paid for a lot of expensive things for him. “Oops. Sorry.”

“All is well and good,” Alfred consoles as he moves out of the car. “I wish you and Master Bruce safe travels.”

“Thank you, Alfred.” Lois thanks zipping up her light blue windbreaker. “You sure you don’t want to come with us? I bet I can squeeze in the back so you can fit in.”

The butler does a pretended contemplative posture at her insistence and retorts, “Mmm, would I rather stay in the manner while it’s peaceful and quiet, or bear witness to the horrid trials of furniture shopping with a group of rowdy children?

“Alright, alright.” Lois concedes rolling her eyes. “All of us are just rambunctious little monsters to you.”

“Indeed.” He agrees before sending off the three of them to talk with Damian’s father and sister near the front of the house.

Jon’s mother goes on her phone to text his dad about their plans while he and Damian are stuck sitting in the car waiting for everyone else to get inside. The youngest child’s eye wanders around the luxurious mahogany interior of the vehicle for a few moments before focusing on his friend across from him. It’s strange having someone sit facing the front of them in a situation where that’s usually not a thing, but Jon is all up for new experiences. He’s excited to finally be going into Gotham itself to do something rather than just driving past it. 

“Gotham is kinda spooky, huh?” Jon comments to Damian.

From his leather seat, he removes his eyes away from the back window to Jonathan’s face as he ponders the question asked of him. “In a way, I suppose you can call it ‘spooky.’ The heavily Gothic-inspired design of the city was apparently well-known for attributing for it’s less than stellar reputation.”

“Also it’s really dark!” The boy bellows pointing out the open car door to the black clouds in the sky. “I thought it was going to rain really bad, but there wasn’t one thunderclap or raindrop!”

“Ah those.” Damian muses staring to where the other was guiding. “That is because those are not storm clouds. That is pollution from the surrounding factories.”

Blue eyes widen at the information and blink rapidly in astonishment. “Pollution? That’s… I’ve never seen it that bad before.”

“Apparently this is a good day in Gotham. If there are spots the sun can shine through it is apparently cause for celebration.”

“Wow… That’s bad but it must be really cool to have that on Halloween.” He says trying to look for a positive. “Oh yeah, speaking of Halloween it’s in two weeks! What are you going as?”

“I’m not planning on doing anything.”

Jon’s smile doesn’t falter but his radiant energy is somewhat diminished by the announcement. “Dami, I want you to know you’re killing me.”

That gets the boy’s full attention when before he was only mildly invested in their chatter. “What?”

“On the inside!” He corrects seeing the horrifying concern on the ten-year-old’s face. “You’re breaking my heart Dami. Halloween is one of my favorite holidays! How could you not do anything!?”

“Halloween is not something people do in Gotham.” Damian elaborates putting a calming hand on the chest of his sweater. He almost had a heart attack thinking he somehow was actually killing the half-Kryptonian. “At least it hasn’t been an openly celebrated tradition since that menace Scarecrow took to the scenes.”

“Who?” Jon asks, confused. He’s not really knowledgeable in Batman villains but he can at least presume they’re probably a supervillain. Only villains would make people afraid of Holidays. 

“A fear-based villain themed after a scarecrow.” 

Ah, Jon’s glad to know he was right. “Aw… at least we can dress at school! I don’t know how trick-or-treating works living in an apartment but at least I know there will be fun stuff to do at school!”

“I suppose. I do remember some of my classmates discussing elaborate plans for the holiday.”

“And we get to dress up at school! I made sure to ask Mrs. Miller if that was okay and she said everyone was allowed!”

“In that case, I might do something. What are you going to dress up as?” Damian asks while contemplating his own costume.

Jon hums for a bit then answers, “I usually go as Superman every year but this year… I think I want to be different! Halloween is all about dressing up as someone you’re not and I’m Superman’s son. Maybe I’ll be Batman or Wonder Woman.”

Lois, who was listening in, has to choke back a snicker as she imagines telling Clark that his baby wants to be Batman instead of Superman for Halloween. Damian nods at his idea. “IF that is the purpose of this holiday then by that logic I cannot assume the role of Batman if I will eventually take on his mantle. I’ll be Superman or Green Lantern.”

This time the poor woman couldn’t contain herself and began full-on bellowing over the trunk of the car causing the Waynes to stare in her direction. Seeing their confused gazes she shouts, “Hey Bruce! Your son wants to be Superman or Green Lantern for Halloween!”

“Over my dead body!” The billionaire shouts back storming over to his son. 

“Bwahahahahaha!”

He leans into the open door where the kids were with a deathly serious expression, startling Jonathan while Damian appeared to be more relaxed, and tells his child, “Son, do not go as Lantern or Superman. I forbid it!”

“Understood father.”

“Hahahahahaha! J-Jesus Bruce it- it’s just a costume!”

“Lois, if pictures of any of my children dressed like that get out I’ll never hear the end of it from the paparazzi or the League! They’re still talking about Dick going as Superman when he was ten and it’s been fourteen years! We are not repeating that mistake!”

“What about Green Arrow?” Lois adds to cause more chaos.

“You know what, I’m making a blacklist of Halloween costumes.” He declares heading inside for a pen and paper just as Dick Grayson finally walks out in a fresh pair of jeans and a form-fitting t-shirt.

“Uh… What happened?” The eldest Wayne sibling asks looking back at his adoptive father. 

Jon meanwhile blinks at what just happened and decides, “Uhh… You know what, I’m going as Wonder Woman. That was terrifying.”

Damian shrugs at his comment and says, “Seeing as I cannot go as either of those options since they are banned I’ll wait for Father to publish the list and continue on from there.”

He nods at the decision and waits a moment, coincidentally as his siblings are stepping inside the car, to ask, “Dami, do you hate kindness?”

Emerald eyes bore into Jonathan menacingly but the child has long since become immune to those stares from the other. He knows that’s just the face Damian makes when he’s trying to figure out what Jon is trying to ask him. “Are you asking if I dislike the concept of people being considerate towards me? If that’s the case then, no.”

Jon shakes his head as he leans forward with his elbows resting on the tray to closer inspect the boy in front of him. “No, that’s not what I mean. I’m asking if you don’t… Do you not like it when people show you they care for you?”

“You’ll have to excuse me.” Damian regrets, crossing his arms over his chest and leaning back into his seat trying to find any insight into what the younger was asking him. “It seems that either due to your poor communication skills or the confusing nature of your question I cannot find the purpose.”

Jon acknowledges the older boy’s concern seeing how his question might be confusing seeing as he’s having trouble trying to convey his messages accurately. “Imma ask a different way. Do you want me to hit you or hug you?”

“For what?”

“Just… for nothing I guess.” He replies not really thinking about a reason. “How about right now? Do you want me to hit you or hug you?”

“Well a hit would take significantly less time and be substantially less painful so I would rather you hit me.” He answers in a calm but disoriented tone. 

“Which means you don’t like it when people show that they love you,” Jon asks, feeling a bit pained by the fact but persists anyways. “Do my hugs hurt you?”

The other actually seems to be judging his options in answering and replies with a reassuring, “No, your hugs are fine.”

“He’s lying.” Cassandra immediately blurts out from next to Jonathan before her older brother covers her mouth.

Jon’s eyes dart towards her quickly then back to Damian with a disappointed frown. “Dami, what have I told you about this?” He waves his hand between both of them to prove his point.

The boy clicks his tongue to the roof of his mouth in frustration and answers, “-Tt- Jonathan, you also said not to hurt you and saying that would contradict that very declaration.”

“Lying hurts me more than you hating hugs.” Jon elaborates as he sees Damian’s father come back to the car and his mother closing the open door next to them. “Why do you hate it?”

Damian avoids the judgmentally stare his friend is giving him and exhales through his nose, but doesn’t apologize. “It… it’s a disturbing sensation. You say it’s supposed to make people feel good but close human contact only causes my skin to crawl. I suffer it for you because you like it so much.”

“Dami, I don’t want you to suffer for me. I love you and hugs are just one way of showing it like how holding hands is for you.” He tells him before coming to a realization himself. “Wait a darn second… You’ve never actually told me you actually love me.”

“Yes, I have,” Damian argues back glaring at the other. “I wouldn’t indulge you in half of the stuff you make me do if I didn’t.”

“I know you mean it but you’re always just answering when I ask. Never mind that, one crisis at a time.”

“You brought it up!”

“Dami, do you want me to show my love in other ways,” Jon asks as he returns to the topic at hand. “What do you want me to do to show that I love you? And don’t say nothing cause that ain’t happening.”

The boy sighs exasperatingly and throws his head back with a long drawn out groan. “Jonathan, what brought this up?”

“Mmm… Nothing really. I just kind of notice you get awkward when someone shows you kindness. Like when your dad touches you or when I try and hug you sometimes. You seem more comfortable when people are screaming at you like Dick that one time at the treehouse.”

“I see…” He sighs as he straightens his body at the rumble of the engine starting. “To be completely honest I would rather not do more touching than necessary. I believe the most effective way of displaying that one is cared for is to accomplish tasks for them rather than useless physical ceremonies. You on the other hand are rather infatuated with them. No matter how many actions or favors I do for your benefit it wouldn’t ever be enough to reassure you that I care completely on the same level you do for me. 

“I mean it’s really nice that you do those things, and I’m grateful but a hug or an ‘I love you’ wouldn’t kill ya,” Jon explains setting his shin in the palms of his hands. “But it wouldn’t hurt me either to back off from all of the huggings.”

“I think I can do that if you’re willing to free me of those annoyingly constricting embraces,” Damian concludes uncrossing his arms. He leans forward until he’s almost an entire foot away from Jonathan’s face and genuinely confesses, 

“I love you.”

Jonathan’s reaction is immediate as the boy springs up so quickly he smashes the back of his skull into the headrest with an excruciatingly loud bang causing it to back against the back window. The older girl beside him holds him up and Jon can see everyone stare at him with varying levels of concern which makes his unfounded shock worse somehow. He feels heat rise to his face in an embarrassing flush and he doesn’t know why; he was already expecting Damian to say something like that but he didn’t know why it gave him such an explosive reaction. 

“Jon?” Said boy questions seeing the other begin to hide his face with the front of his Batman shirt.

While still covering his face Jon wails in frustration and humiliation before murmuring out. “I hate you.”

This amuses Damian to no end as he lets loose a devilish smirk to reply, “Happy to hear it.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Did I just write an 11k word build up to two boys going to IKEA of all places? Yes, yes I did.
> 
> Okay, I don't know shit about cars but I know a bit about therapy. It's not 100% accurate but I try my best so yay? Bruce and Lois trying to be good parents but their kids are so weird. I hate how DC is handling Bruce as a parent rn and I need more good dad Batman. Also, side note: Batman is supposed to motivate and inspire people but a lot of DC authors keep trying to do this thing where he's just as bad as villains and I'm like, "UUUUUhhhhhhh, this is a Superhero comic right?" I mean I don't hate those stories but it happens way too often. Maybe I don't like it because my intro to Batman was the JLAU episode with Ace when I was 6-years old. IDK what I'm talking about, I'm just a fan, not a professional writer.
> 
> My favorite part about writing this chapter was Tim clearly spirling into one of his sleep-deprived states. It's just funny to me because I KNOW people with rooms that bad. And Jon being cute. Both give me LIFE!
> 
> Next chapter: They actually go to IKEA.


	22. Shopping Soothes the Soul (Part 2)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The boys go shopping, cause some chaos, and talk about important things. It's a normal trip for the two of them where nothing goes wrong and everything is fine.
> 
> But what does fine mean when you're Jonathan Kent?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi! We are on the next and last part of the Ikea shopping trip chapter! Yay! As always I suck butt at editing and the way I wrote this chapter was a bit... messy and experimental. I actually originally wrote this entire chapter and finished it like... three days ago but I hated certain parts of it so I went back in and edited it heavily till I liked it. The problem doing that is that there are sometimes things that don't make sense if I didn't go back and change it to make it cohesive. 
> 
> I did my best and read it over multiple time but I'm always missing things! Hopefully, I got everything but if I didn't then... Fuck. Hope y'all enjoy this chapter! Thank you to everyone who is reading! I love all of ya!

Damian Al-Ghul is well aware that Jonathan Samuel Kent is a strange child even by his standards. The horrible public education system of his current residence has only done one favor for him and it was to experience first hand how his assumed peers are supposed to act. Children are not as simple-minded or naive as Grayson’s teen dramas depict them as, but at the same time, he has yet to find anyone quite like the Kryptonian-human hybrid. Not just for his unique set of genetics but for his mental fortitude of being the most confusing creature he’s ever come across.

Jonathan is not unusual in his steadfast stubbornness, there have been many before him who’s skulls were thick and ideals set in stone. He is not bizarre in his ability to love, there is an entire Lantern Corp dedicated to that very emotion. Jon is especially not special in his capacity for foolishness, a fact made abundantly clear by every prank video in existence. Each of the things that would usually make him unique is what makes him not unique at all. The boy is just a person who is stupidly naive, kind, and unyielding, but the thing that separates him from everyone else for Damian is his determination.

All three of the main attributes feed into his determination to do what he desires no matter what may come. When Jon has a goal in mind there is no line the seven-year-old wouldn’t cross to achieve it. It is an attribute even some of the most experienced assassins he’s trained failed to grasp in their twenties. Jon was just seemingly born with this trait. Even Damian, much to his shame, cannot do what Jon is emotionally capable of. Jonathan reminds him of his mother in the way she knew what she wanted and took it without hesitation.

There are many examples the young assassin could name such as Jon’s desire to become his ally, but he feels the most prominent example he could name that summarizes Jonathan Kent to him is when he was willing to die for Damian. He already had an idea of what transpired during his mind-control, when a weak harlot managed to get the better of him while he was foolishly consumed by emotions. For a while, Damian believed that it was his hands that dealt that traumatizing blow to Jonathan. It only made sense to come to that conclusion when he came back to consciousness with a sword straight through the pale boy’s neck. 

Then he decided to look at the footage his father saved to the Batcomputer. Of course, the man would do that because it was attributed to his son’s own failure and shortcomings. A reminder of why he should never be allowed by his side or on the field. It took Damian a few days to sneak in to access the cave but when he did the first thing he did was look over what his associates knew. All of what he witnessed was exactly what he expected to see. To see his own body used like a broken marionette aggravated him to no end, but that’s not what he wanted to see. His battle with Jonathan was his main objective and was obviously cut out and saved somewhere else.

“Hey Demon Brat.” An aggravatingly familiar voice chides from the depths of the cave. “Looking for this?” 

Emerald orbs swiftly rip themselves away from the monitor and narrow menacingly to his vexation. “Drake.” He hisses seeing a flash drive in the unworthy teenager’s hands. If the ten-year-old didn’t have braces restricting his movements he would have vaulted from the seat to strangle him- no. No, Damien wouldn’t do that because he promised Jonathan he would try to be better. Tim saunters up to the child glaring daggers at him and casually drops it into his lap confusing the blood son greatly. “What games are you trying to play here Drake?”

“Nothing. I was just examining it in my room for a while.” He tells Damian before letting out an obnoxious yawn. “You can have it. Remember to put it in the drawer when you’re done.”

“For what purpose did you need this specific footage?”

He shrugs and waves the child off before heading up the cave stairs. “Oh, you know. Just some research.” 

Damian blinks stunned at the other’s actions and cautiously asks, “You’re really just going to let me freely be in here? Are you heading to tell Father of my transgression-” 

“Nope,” He replies tiredly in a way that indicates he honestly couldn’t care less. “It’s not like you’ll do anything dangerous.”

“-Tt- You don’t know what I’m capable of.”

The male doesn’t even stop walking away as he replies. “Maybe, but Jon loves you. That’s why you won’t do something to ruin that.”

He watches the teenager make his way up to the top of the cave and leave without another word. Damian waits about a minute to confirm that the current Robin is not going to rat him out for trespassing and inputs the device in his lap to the monitor. He honestly didn’t expect there to be anything on the flash drive much less the thing he was looking for, but his day is just full of surprises as the only thing in the files is the footage he was looking for. He plays the video without a second thought.

Everything perfectly correlates to the injuries he witnessed on the other boy’s body. The gashes on his leg, the slice over his eyes, and small scars strewed on his skin. Each attack he witnessed from his past self succeed in making himself nauseous with dread. Knows how this story ends, he’ll impale Jonathan where he stood giving the child the opportunity to take the machine off his ear. He knows this but that doesn’t mean he’s looking forward to seeing it.

But that’s not what happened.

Jonathan wasn’t able to hold his own weight on his feet seeing as what he thought were mere gashes were actually the complete amputation of both of his legs; only held together by the flimsy material of Jonathan’s costume. There was no possible way for Damian to stab him where he stood if there was no standing to be done. Jon, blinded and legless, on the floor of the arena grinned. The child had the audacity to smile up to where he thought Damian was and scratch his hands out to feel for the synthetic kryptonite blade. He sees Jon successfully find the weapon that was only a foot away from stabbing him in the heart and grasp it with his hands tightly, tight enough to draw blood, and force it down his own neck, right above his collar. He sees Jon dragged himself up the blade much to the horrified screams of the audience with that stupid loving smile on his face. He has it on his face so when he pulls himself to his feet and frees Damian from his mental imprisonment he’ll sound happy. He’ll sound happy so Damian wouldn’t worry about his well being; so his only friend will be reassured that they were going to be fine once they were together again, even for a moment. Neither Jon nor Damian knew that his healing extended to the levels that it did. For all either of them understood Jon might have actually succumbed to his injuries. 

Why does someone he barely knows, someone who is endlessly full of kindness, dedicate his entire being to him in a way even his most dedicated servants wouldn’t; in a way his own family wouldn’t? How did his relentless stubbornness and love transform someone so innocent into what he could only describe as a monster; for only a monster could torture themselves with a smile? When was the moment Damian wanted to stop being the monster the people outside his home, outside of the League, concluded he was for him? Damian has never had a tried and true friend before, but the feeling of having someone to rely on and want to cherish is new to him. Someone willing to fearlessly call him out on his shortcomings without breaking his spirit was so valuable Damian didn’t want to remember a time where he was without one. 

Except for right now; he really wishes that Jonathan wasn’t with him right now.

“JONATHAN YOU’RE GOING TO MAKE YOURSELF SICK ALL OVER THE STORE!” 

Currently, the moron was attempting to swallow an entire cone of cheap frozen yogurt down his throat without chewing in the middle of inexpensive furniture in front of dozens of other customers around him. He doesn’t know how this happened as he and Jonathan’s mother were both holding on to one of the child leashes to keep an eye on him. Within the ten seconds they weren’t looking, Jon somehow acquired a dairy treat and decided that choking himself to death on it was a valuable use of his time.

“Cass, why did you buy him that, he’s not allowed to have dairy!?” Grayson shouts as he furiously pats the seven-year-old on the back to clear his airway.

“He wanted it. I saw.” The short-haired teenager expresses as she performs the Heimlich maneuver on Damien's friend. 

“You can’t just give him things because he wants it!”

Somewhere in the couch section of Ikea all of the Wayne children could hear their father sigh with a disappointed temper, and could clearly visualize him pinching the bridge of his nose to quell an oncoming headache. Jonathan’s mother meanwhile just covered her face while the three siblings did their best to save Jonathan from himself while apparently causing the most chaos possible. Damian, with his free hand in his friend’s mouth, yanks the gross treat out his throat into a nearby trash can. Then he begins shaking him back and forth by the collar of his shirt violently. “Why are you like this!? Who dropped you on the head as an infant to make you eat whatever is given to you!? Have you learned nothing?! I thought we’ve been over this hundreds of times but you keep proving to me you are incapable of not killing yourself, you goat!”

Another groan from behind them is set free from Bruce Wayne and all of them can just barely hear him grumble, “Two minutes. We’ve only been in Ikea for two whole minutes and things are already going wrong. We haven’t even left the entrance yet. This has to be a new record.”

Hopefully, that event wouldn’t set the tone for the entire trip but no one ever really knows how things are going to turn out with Jon. The group quickly washes the children off and Damian attempts to purge his hands with near burning water to get the residue of Jonathan related filth off of him. Luckily they weren’t even fully in the store yet so the ordeal was fairly quick.

Once cleaned up Jon’s mother and Damian both shorten the ropes in their hands to make it so the child couldn’t get more than a foot away from them. This displeases the seven-year-old in the Batman shirt greatly and he vocalizes it to the pair. “This is silly. I didn’t even do anything!”

“Jon…” The other groans resisting the urge to smack the boy upside the head. His self-control doesn’t last long because he does it anyway. “You know you have a psychological condition that causes milk products to make you sick. Why did you attempt to gorge yourself on frozen yogurt?”

“Well…” He begins with an inquisitive hum. “I thought if I ate it fast enough I wouldn’t taste it and it wouldn’t make me sick.” All of the five people around him simultaneously facepalm and slowly, excruciatingly slow, the young Kent boy began to see the error of his ways. “Wait hold up… that wouldn’t have worked cause I know it has milk in it.”

“Why am I friends with you?” Damian asks himself in an irate mutter while dragging his hands down his face. 

Jonathan didn’t hear his question so he just continued to attempt to walk away into the display area of the store to no avail as he was being held back. Lois looks at her fellow parent and jokingly questions, “You think it’s too late to drop them off at the Ikea play place?”

“Don’t set your boy loose on the poor employees. They wouldn’t’ be able to stop either of them from leaving and wreaking havoc.”

“Good point.”

Dick grabs a booklet from one of the many stands around them and opens it up to the children’s section to show the boy’s what was being sold. “Okay Dami, just-”

“Hey, that’s my nickname!” Jonathan puffs crossing his arms defiantly.

He chuckles to himself and rewords his sentence. “Okay _Damian_ we’re going to go to the children’s area and you can pick out whatever you want.”

The boy in question only looks at the magazines for less than a second before glaring up at his older brother. “Grayson, I’m not a child that can be satisfied with pathetic colorful detail on cheap plastic.”

“Hey, I have this dresser!” Jonathan cheers pointing to a baby blue wardrobe in one of the pictures. 

Green eyes bore into the man judgmentally and successfully concludes his point. “Need I say more?”

Grayson just stupidly continues his cheerful expression and says, “Then I guess we’re going to the adult’s section.”

Damian didn’t understand how a trip to a discount Sweedish furniture chain was supposed to make his room any better than it already was. Honestly, he thinks that Jon only suggested he come to this specific store because he didn’t know the name of any other furniture store. If the older boy truly had a choice of where to go shopping for furniture he would have hired the world’s distinguished artisans to custom make magnificent works of art from the most exquisite materials to create something worthy of his use. 

Unfortunately, he doesn’t think that’s a viable option for him, not due to the lack of funds but because of his father’s insistence to not indulge in his every monetary whim. It’s most likely the reason his father refused to hire a blacksmith to forge weapons for him when he first came to Gotham. That or it would be too much a liability to have too many people have any kind of professional relations to him or the manor. Both reasons are perfectly logical as it might jeopardize Batman’s privacy. 

At least Jonathan is having fun.

“Dami! Dami! This couch turns into a bed just like the one in my house!” Jon cheers rolling all over one of the display sofas only to fall off the edge and tangling himself up in his leash line. 

Damian rolls his eyes at Jonathan’s silliness and retorts, “You’re so easily amused.”

The young boy doesn’t take the jibe to heart as he quickly gets back up. “Maybe you’re just too hard to amuse. You don’t like video games, you hate TV, you think movies are a waste of time, and you won’t play House-”

“I played House for an entire five minutes with people I hated just to entertain you.” He counters angrily due to being reminded of the most useless game Jon has ever made him play during recess. 

“Dami, you called Olivia a floozy and immediately made her sign imaginary divorce papers before going back to the bleachers to draw.” Jon deadpans with a tired exhalation. 

“And I got the house and the dog, which means I won!”

“You can’t win House! It’s just pretend Dami! Also, I was the dog!” He exclaims before remembering where he was and who he was talking to. “Whatever, I didn’t think you’d like it anyways. So do you see anything you like?”

“In the couches? I don’t believe I do.” He says completely uninterested in the fake leather and cheap cotton products around him. 

The ten-year-old continues to wander around the sectionals while his father’s older wards begin to jump between the cushions screaming, “The floor is lava!” much to his father’s displeasure. Eventually, Damian finds a long black armrest chair that he doesn’t completely hate and has ample storage underneath. He lifts the seat to examine the compartment only to have Jonathan immediately lay down inside of it for seemingly no reason.

He blinks at his friend and questions, “Jonathan, what do you think you’re doing?”

The younger child shrugs and explains, “I just like small spaces sometimes. It’s kind of like when your mom and Dad buy a new refrigerator and now there’s this giant box that you can do anything with, but instead of doing anything cool like making it a lemonade stand you just grab a blanket and sleep in it. Ya know?”

No, no he does not know. 

“Or when you put your new shoe box outside to be recycled and you turn away for a second and all of a sudden there’s just a cat inside it who’s just staring at you.”

“Jonathan, are you implying you’re a cat?”

He doesn’t reply but instead moves over implying that Damian joins him inside the box. The heir sighs and begrudgingly indulges in the odd request as Lois laughs at the display next to them. He lays there for a couple of moments, ignoring the stale smell of plastic and wood, to get a feel for the experience. Damian eventually admits, “I see what you mean.”

Bruce leans into the storage bin and asks his son, “Do you like this one?”

The boy in question doesn’t know if he likes it per se but he does find it the most tolerable thing he’s experienced so far with at least some practical purpose. “This will do father. It can fit a satisfactory number of bodies inside.”

The man stares at the two of them for a moment before standing back up and pinching the bridge of his nose tiredly. “That’s fine. This is fine.” He writes the number of the product down on the booklet Grayson took earlier before gesturing for him to move along to the next section of the store before his two older children break anything.

Beds were a more difficult choice as Damian actually liked the mattress his father provided him. That only left bed frames which Damian couldn’t care less about. He just decided to pick the most intricate and expensive one to get the experience over with, but he was unable to leave as Jonathan, Dick, and Cassandra decided that they needed to lay in every single bed on display. Every. Single. One.

“What are you heathens doing?” Damian groans as he’s forced to follow them due to Jonathan’s leash pulling him along.

“This is- like- most of the fun coming here,” Jon says as he tries his very best to climb up an especially high mattress. He doesn’t make it and is pulled up by the teenage Asian girl in one fluid motion. 

“Rubbing your body all over the pieces hundreds of other people already touched is fun?” He specifies rubbing his temples. “At first I believed that it was my particular upbringing that was hindering my understanding of the things people our age are supposed to find ‘fun.’ It would seem that I am instead merely surrounded by simpletons.”

A large hand furiously ruffles Damian’s short hair and it’s bearer jokes, “Hey, we’re all having a good time. Maybe you should just give it a try.”

Damian swipes the arm away from him and hisses back, “I’m not doing that Grayson. Can we please just move on?”

“Oh noooo, it’s already happening.” Jonathan’s mother chuckles in a slow and overly dramatic fashion to Damian’s father but is obviously also meant to be heard by Damian. “At this rate their friendship won’t last the entire shopping trip.”

“And here I thought they might have been better than this.” Bruce laments in a tone implying he’s not the least bit regretful about. “Ikea takes another one.”

The trained assassin can feel a vein near his brow tense at the implication he’s losing to a goddamn furniture warehouse of all things. Does his father find his shortcomings so amusing to witness? Damian isn’t failing, he’s just functioning on a different, more sophisticated level than the plebeians he’s used to taking under his metaphorical wing. He’s better than the lot of them-

“Damian, give me leash,” Cass demands, holding out her open palm with a sly smirk as she notices the stress he’s radiating. “You not gonna have fun so I take Jon around and we have fun instead.”

Oh.

Oh, this bitch.

She did not just-

“You holding us back.”

He takes in a long and deep breath, threatening to expand his lungs to full capacity, and drops the leash to angrily turn on his heel to walk far away from the three of the people on the king size bed. For a moment they all believed that they pushed him too far causing him to leave. Jon is about to hop off to check on his friend when he hears the rapid repeating sounds of leather dress shoes on concrete coming towards them. 

No one has time to escape, due to being tangled in sheets, as the youngest Wayne descends upon them with a pillow from one of the other beds in hand to attack his adoptive older sister. She reacts with the same ferocity as she was also trained by the League and swipes him across the face with the pillow beneath her head. Jonathan immediately saw this act of aggression (and fun) against his friend and as his shield, he leapt to defend him by whacking her with a large stuffed elephant plushie. This causes Dick to feel the need to protect his sister’s honor by taking the seven-year-old by the waist and playfully slamming him back on the mattress; smothering him in the sheets.

And then they all descended into madness. 

Bruce and Lois were grateful the four of them kept their roughhousing to a single area but it took them a good hour to gather their children and convince the employees not to kick them out. For the first five minutes, everything was playful and fun as all of them hit each other with pillows. Things began to go awry when Cassandra moved off their current secluded bed and onto one of the full-sized loft beds to declare she had the higher ground. Then Jon did the same thing on one of the children’s loft beds. And God help them all, they decided to split into teams. 

Fifteen minutes in and they somehow dropped every patron into their competition with all of the children joining Damian and Jon while Dick and Cassandra roped in all the teenagers and a few of the college students from Gotham University into the mix. No of the now countless number of parents knew how it happened but they somehow acquired all of the pillows and stuffed animals from the display area and a few of the college students created a makeshift trebuchet with one of the display model bed frames they dismantled by hand.

Not to be outperformed the army of children, about twenty in counting at half an hour in, Jon took apart one of the metal ladders from a loft bed and the children found a way to remake it into an extremely unstable zipline to the other side where the big kids were. No one had any fear to spare as they all instantly zoomed across the contraption as Damian led the charge. The ensuing composition was enough for nearly all of the security in the facility to be called to the Sofa-Bed displays. 

Forty-five minutes into the anarchy everyone seemingly realized that they were all about to be grounded for life and banded together against the adults. All the kids young and old stood together to create the world’s most elaborate pillow fort to separate them for safety. Once that was finished they began negotiations by sending out their oldest member, Dick Grayson. “We, the kids, want to be let free without any trouble or groundings!” 

“And a cinnamon bun!” A random child who was caught into the competition calls out from the top of the many beds used to hold the fort together.

“And a cinnamon bun.” He repeats for the negotiator. 

Bruce sighs into the microphone, a security guard actually gives him a freaking microphone, and says, “Dick, you’re twenty-four. You’re not a kid.”

“I’m not the adult if you’re here to be one for me.”

“Chum, this is ridiculous. Just get out of the pillow fort and it will all be over with.”

“Holy shit is that Bruce Wayne?!” One of the employees shouts finally realizing why the man looked so familiar.

The billionaire sighs again as he regrets every choice that led him to ever consider adopting. 

Eventually, Cassandra takes control over the negotiations by simply staring everyone down silently and they were allowed everything they wanted without any trouble (Except for having to fix the display). Once that’s over with they are quickly taken through the next sections in rapid succession to hinder any more events such as that one. Damian is forced to quickly pick items he found the least repulsive and with the least amount of hidden storage, as requested by Dick Grayson until they finally make it through the halfway point to the food court. 

“Thank sweet baby Jesus we made it out of there.” Lois sighs in relief as she sets Jonathan down, who she was forced to carry the entire way to stop him from causing more trouble.

“I’m so sorry my children dragged Jon into that entire fiasco,” Bruce replies scowling at all three of his present children, who all immediately take a unanimous step back. “I didn’t think they would take it that far, that was my mistake.”

“Mom, I’m hungry.” Jon tells his mother innocently, as if he didn’t assault a group of high schoolers with his tiny body propelled from a zipline.

The brunette pats the boy’s head and reaches into her purse to grab some cash for him. The Wayne children, on the other hand, have already entered the line and the eldest sibling was doing his best to get Damian to try the meatballs to no avail. The group of six ordered their food and settled down into a booth near a window to enjoy their meal.

Jon was in the process of stealing a vegetable meatball from Damian’s plate when he heard the familiar sound of a camera flashing from outside. He’s no expert photographer however the distinct artificial click of a camera is something he’s become accustomed to in a generation where social media is everything. Jon doesn’t personally have any social media but he’s consumed enough of it to know what a camera sounds like. In reality, most cameras are digital and do not make any noise when capturing moments in time. Jon knows this because he’s seen Kara, his father, and his mother takes a picture with their phones, but that doesn’t mean that there aren’t cameras that make that sound naturally anymore. 

“Does anyone else hear that?” Jon asks everyone at the table as he returns the food to its respective plate. Jon glances around for a camera as he continues to hear the faint sound repeat itself consistently. 

Expecting the worse Damian promptly pilfers the fountain pen his father took from the manor before they left from his jean pocket and takes Jonathan by the hand to protectively pull the child behind him. He begins to point the makeshift weapon around as he anticipates an attack and the younger immediately realizes his mistake. It’s probably not a good idea to inquire about something Damian possibly couldn’t hear because the last time Jon did that they got shot at.

“No, Dami no!” Jon consoles pushing the arm down in an attempt to calm the situation before things escalate further. “It’s not what you think! I hear a camera going off but I don’t see one.”

Damian retracts his temporary armament but doesn’t release his grip on it or his friend. “Where?”

The boy points outside behind the tall row of bushes directly outside the window. Damian, and the rest of the Batfamily, glare out the glass pane for several moments when the patriarch of the family sees what Jonathan was talking about. Bruce maintains a neutrally relaxed expression as he easily plucks the sharp writing instrument from his youngest’s fingers, and seats both of the boys back down to the seats next to him. He gives his other two older children a calculated glace immediately causing the two of them to put on similar expressions. 

Cassandra sits up in her seat and begins to forcefully giggle while putting a hand across the table onto her littlest brother’s shoulder; as if he just told her a joke. Dick meanwhile steps out of his place at the table to exaggeratedly put Jon in a comical headlock before tousling the boy’s hair wildly with his knuckles. Bruce laughs at his children’s antics as he takes out his cellphone, a different one than the Bat-phone Jonathan remembers him using, to text someone.

Jon looks to his mother confused by the Waynes’ weird reaction while she merely shrugs and gestures for him to act normal. He doesn’t know how he could do that when everyone was acting artificial around him, but he does his best to not appear as though nothing is wrong while Damian is squeezing the life out of his hand. Or he would have if Jonathan didn’t have invincibility.

They all stay in this surreal state of fake laughter and merriment for around ten excruciating minutes until the famous billionaire receives a text back from whoever he was messaging. He briefly glances at his phone before putting it down and finally stops smiling, placing his head in his fists as he lets out a lengthy sigh. He faces the brunette across from him and has to apologize for the third time since they entered the Gotham Ikea. 

“My security team seems to have let a member of the paparazzi slip by them. The situation has been dealt with but I must apologize for any unforeseen grief this might cause you.”

Lois waves her hand at the man calmly and responds, “It’s no big deal Bruce, things like that are bound to happen. It’s not like I was expecting an outing with the famous playboy billionaire to go without something like this happening. What are they going to do? Accuse Jon of being another secret love child? Report a torrid affair with ‘Superman’s woman?’ Besides, I think we’re already trending on Twitter for that stunt the kids pulled.”

“Are they still calling you that?” Dick scoffs as he returns to his seat.

“Yep.” 

“That wrong,” Cassandra interjects, eating her now cold fries.

The older woman laughs to herself saying, “I’m over it mostly, but it’s still annoying to be called someone’s woman. I don’t belong to anyone.”

“I don’t get it.” Jon pipes up not understanding what just happened but lets the event roll off of him. “You’re married to dad so how is that wrong?”

“I must agree with Jonathan’s confusion; You are a woman and married to him so wouldn’t that, in turn, mean you belong to him?” Damian agrees, leaning back in his seat to more comfortably contemplate the thought. 

Lois’s face dropped hearing those words out of her son’s mouth and reinforced by his friend. There were several ways she could interpret their words and the meaning behind them. While it would be a very simple thing to clear up in a matter of seconds it was a matter understanding what he was really asking so she doesn’t talk down to her son. 

“What do you not get?” She presses making sure the concern in her voice becomes overshadowed by genuine curiosity. 

Jon hums and leans back in his seat against the cushion tied to the backrest contemplatively then answers, “Like… You love dad in that gross way girls do so doesn’t that mean you belong to him? On TV when a girl likes a boy she’s always like, ‘take me now’ or ‘I’m yours’ and all that stuff.”

She really needs to monitor the shows Jonathan’s been watching because while they do have a child monitor on their television and his laptop doesn’t mean that he’s learning the right things from it. Lois saves that conversation for later to address the issue at hand. “Those things aren’t really how romance works, Jon. TV just shows that because it’s easier to write than an actual functional relationship. When someone likes someone else, no matter the gender, it doesn’t mean they actually belong to someone.”

“That’s not how Mother and Grandfather told me,” Damian interposes leaning back as well and crossing his arms, a task made difficult by the occupation of his right hand. “They told me that when you want someone you must do everything in your power to make them yours. To own them mind, body, and soul. Bind them to you for eternity even if it means to break them down first.”

Lavender eyes blink at… at all of that and quickly looks across to the other parent to interject for her because she is definitely not ready to explain any of that to a child who is not her own. Bruce, who is looking noticeably paler than he did a few seconds ago, turns to his son to talk to him. “Damian, that isn’t how people should treat others no matter if they love someone romantically or just as a friend. Is that how you’ve been treating Jonathan here?”

Damian frowns and glances at his friend then back to his father to cautiously respond. “It used to be. I needed him so I toyed with his insecurities to make him bound to me and respond in a more beneficial way.”

“But we’re over it now!” Jon says happily.

“I don’t see what this has to do with my association with Jonathan.”

The man clears his throat and pulls at his collar before clarifying his reasoning. “Friendships and romantic relationships are not isolated. While they are inherently different there are some similar principles to them. I bring up Jonathan because you are friends with him and therefore would easily relate to that rather than a fake romantic one.”

Damian nods in understanding allowing for his father to continue.

“People shouldn’t own other people in any way. You say don’t treat Jonathan in that manner anymore; that is because you care for him and know that trying to keep someone to yourself is selfish and wrong. Having someone who should be a peer belong to you implies that you don’t see them as a person but a possession. Imagine if it was the other way around and Jon wanted you to belong to him. Do you feel good being thought of in that way?”

The child shakes his head.

“What… What your mother and grandfather taught you about wanting someone…. That’s not what love is in the sense it applies to marriage or even friendships. They do not represent the kind of love that is between people who care about each other but subjects or servants. Am I making sense?” He inquires, not wanting to skim anything over in case Damian somehow takes the wrong message from his statement. 

“I understand where you’re coming from in a stance that solely relates to mutually platonic companionship like Jonathan and I-” Dick begins to choke on his water for some odd reason. “But I still do not see how this applies to the form of marriage or romantic love. I now understand that the acquisition of such love is now inapplicable for any relationship of equal respect, but that doesn’t negate my previous sediments. Marriage, in its most basic essence, is a legally or spiritually binding contract that specifically means that two people now forever belong to each other. Is that not the same thing as possessing someone?”

“Ah,” Bruce says like a lightbulb just went off in his brain. “So that’s what you meant. Everything I said about how relationships still apply but here is where the difference is when it comes to marriage and ‘belonging to someone’ comes in. Marriage from a completely legal standpoint doesn’t mean that a couple or people being married now own each other. It only makes them into one single entity instead of individuals, but both are still their own person who belong to themselves. Spiritually and emotionally it could mean anything depending on the people getting married. By that logic, anything goes.”

“I see…” Damian replies with an even deeper frown. “Is that why you and Mother aren’t married? I assume it would be troubling to be legally bound to someone who works in the shadows-”

The billionaire immediately stands up and hauls his son up by his armpits like a wet cat dragging him, and by extension Jonathan, out of the dining area. “That is a conversation for not now. Let’s go buy you some foam swords!”

“B, no! I just got rid of all the real weapons, I don’t need to start worrying about fake ones!” The eldest Wayne brother shouts as he rushes out of the booth to stop his dad from enabling Damian’s violent activities. 

“He and Clark are so similar.” Lois snickers as she packs Jonathan’s stuff while the teenage girl next to her places the empty plates and trays together to clean. 

Cassandra laughs along with her saying, “He’ll be really mad if you say it to his face.”

“Who, Bruce or Clark?”

“Both.”

The two females leisurely take their time heading over to the marketplace as they casually grab a shopping cart and inspect some of the many trinkets on the way to the toys. When the duo gets there they’re greeted with the hilarious sight of all three of the younger males furiously attacking each other with colorful foam blades while the father is pleasantly watching from a display bench. He waves at the two without taking his eyes off the fighting children. 

“You were in such a hurry. For a second I thought you forgot about us.” Lois jokes slapping the man down on the shoulder. 

The man rolls his eyes and replies, “I would never forget about my daughter. You on the other hand- Ow!”

“Watch it, Bruce,” The mother scolds with a smirk. “I might not have powers but I can still mess you up. So what are they doing?”

“Oh you know, the usual. Boys being boys and trying to kill each other with fake swords.” Cassandra stares at the trio for a solid minute before her father asks her, “Do you want one too?” She nods. “Okay, I’ll buy you one if you can get them to stop. Damian hasn’t picked out any lighting or bedding. Plus we still need to pick up the furniture from the warehouse and have it shipped to the manor.”

“What, you’re not going to pay to have people build it for you?” Lois asks while the younger girl steps between everyone and smacks her brother’s heads together. She didn’t need to do it to Jon since he stopped when asked.

“Lois, I’m a man in my mid-thirties and Dick and you will be helping me. I think with all of us together we could finish building everything with relative ease.”

Those are the famous last words of Bruce Thomas Wayne. When everyone arrived back in the manor with a small truck full of their stuff. They got everything into the manor, up the stairs, and moved everything out of Damian’s room to prepare for the redesign. Alfred grabbed some of the paint from the garage to the bedroom so the ten-year-old could pick out a new color seeing as he didn’t like the overbearingly bright shade of blue littering his walls. 

While the adults got to work unpacking and reading the instructions of the furniture the children were ushered to the walls to paint. Seeing an opportunity Damian pulled out all of his acrylics and after priming the walls in the mostly empty chambers he began to work on a masterpiece with his new canvas. Jon was no artist and decided to continue priming every surface of the room with a long rolly sick Mr. Pennyworth gave him. The youngest was currently painting the ceiling white, even though he really shouldn’t have been when the first of many frustrating groans entered through the open door from the hallway. 

His friend was much too busy outlining an intricate landscape to be bothered with the clatter outside so Jonathan thought it best that he is the one to investigate. He trots outside to the expansive halfway to find Mr. Wayne and his mother almost at arms with each other over a simple piece of black metal that could have belonged to the wardrobe or the computer desk. Cassandra has long since noped out of the entire situation seeing as she’s lying limp on the leather cushion of an incomplete chaise lounge chair. Dick meanwhile is on top of the media center with a screwdriver clung to his chest while Alfred does his best to get him down. 

“Lois, I know how to read and I’m the world’s greatest detective! That is one of the clothing dividers for the PAX!”

“Oh what the fuck would your spoiled ass know about clothes; Alfred still dresses you! It belongs to the VITTSJÖ!”

“Master Dick, please come down from there. I promise things will be fine if you just set your feet back down on the floor.”

“Alfie I just realized I don’t have my life together. What am I going to do with myself? I’m twenty-four and still don’t have a plan! I might be the most well adjusted but have you seen the rest of these people? No one is okay! NO ONE!”

“Master Dick, it’s just building instructions. There is no need to have an existential crisis.”

Jon watches the interactions between everyone for another moment before slowly grabbing the handle of the door and closing it shut. He doesn’t acknowledge what he saw as he picks the paint roller up to resume his work in the ceiling. Once the ceiling and all of the walls were complete Jon decides to bravely venture back out into the hallway where he notices some new faces in amongst the commotion. The little boy doesn’t know when His cousin Kara got to the manor or why she was here, but that wasn’t important. The more pressing issue is that she’s currently on the floor along with Jason, who he didn’t remember being there last time he checked, beating the crap out of each other with their fists.

“Fuck you bitch!”

“No, Fuck you! I know how to build a freaking bed frame!”

“You don’t know shit ya blonde bimbo! That ain’t even an Allen wrench!”

Jon smartly decides to close the door again. This time he just lays on the floor to watch paint dry and witness Damian continue penciling in his masterpiece. He’s beginning to see the landscape was of some sort of oceanfront or mountain range. The child can’t tell which it is but either way he thinks it’s nice. Another hour later and Damian has decided to finally begin painting his room while Jonathan ventures out into the hall once more to see what wonders await him. 

This time there are more new faces including his Dad and that really nice lady with the pixie haircut Jon remembers seeing once; if he remembers correctly her name is Selina. They weren’t doing anything other than trying to help child furniture but the thing causing chaos are the dozens, literally dozens, or cats running around them while Ace the Bat-hound majestically sits ignoring the destruction the felines were causing. Jonathan knows he has a terrible track record with any and all cats so he once again recedes into the room. 

He spends more time sitting about and occasionally handing over specific brushes and colorful tubes of paint when requested of him. He and Damian share some small talk about random and rapidly changing topics while Jon waits for whatever he’s waiting for. He doesn’t know why he’s not doing anything meaningful but he definitely doesn’t want to go back out there to help. Eventually, Damian managed to finish two walls before Jon takes another peek out the door by crawling to the door and cracking it just a bit to see where everyone was in their progress of the furniture. 

Selina and the cats are gone but everyone else has stayed. Jonathan almost believed that things were actually normal this time since it just looked like everyone was just standing around a finished wardrobe system. Then he noticed that the structure was shaking while Jason pointed and laughed at it. From the context clues and tidbits of chatter, he could pick up Tim was inside it and his older brother drilled it shut. 

Jon closes the door one last time. 

He doesn’t remember when he fell into a dreamless slumber because all he knew was that it was night once second and daytime the next. Jonathan awoke in a drowsy daze as he staggered to sit up properly with his eyes crusted shut. The light showed brightly through his eyelids alerting him to the early morning sun. Then again it could be high noon for all Jonathan knew as direct sunlight appears to be a rarity in Gotham. He forced the last bit of sleepiness out of himself and cracked open his eyes to be met with a beautiful shoreline. 

If it wasn’t for the carpet rubbing against his legs and the suffocating smell of acrylic paint Jonathan would have honestly believed that he was teleported somewhere completely different than Damian’s empty bedroom. Before him was a work of art that pales in comparison to anything he’s ever seen his friend work on. The young boy already knew that his friend was working on something great when he broke out all of his supplies but he never expected it to turn out like this.

The scenery was full of life as vivid colors were burned into his memories. Jonathan had to fight himself from running his fingers across the artwork because he knew it would ruin the still-wet paint. He turns his head around the rest of the abode as the painting continues from wall to wall showing the same view with different yet very district features. Going clockwise the next wall showed more of the vast open sea and continued the light from the previous wall’s sunset. In the distance he noticed birds flying off into the distance. The image was somewhat marred by the window at the end revealing the outside world and proving to Jonathan that it was indeed early morning like he first presumed it was. 

The wall behind him brought him back to dry land but instead of a magnificently detailed shoreline, all he was was jagged barren rocks surrounding a mountain in the shape of a skull bleeding lava from every orifice. Normally the seven-year-old would have found this image completely terrifying and off-putting. However with the way Damian painted this horrifying image in a way that was gentle, almost kind but at the same time sad. There were no harsh greys one might have used to represent the painful texture of such a violent thing but instead there were soft and vivid pastels. 

The last wall was the most shocking piece of all. He was on a grassy cliff looking past several valley hills filled with a bustling town with a market and exotic temples the likes which Jonathan’s shining blue eyes have never bore witness to in all his years. None of that was compared to the main focus of the piece because in the night sky of this wall, right at the center, was a palace. The structure was brightly lit from the countless torches surrounding it and the even more impressive number of rooms illuminated inside. 

It didn’t have any fairytale towers princesses would get stuck in or pointy conned roofs, but instead domes. The castle was very round with towers that resembled spears. The entire thing was pure white with accents of luminescent gold littering every orifice. It consisted of countless buildings that were all connected by elaborate sets of detailed bridges. The majesty of it all was enough to consume an entire mountain. 

Jonathan was still gawking at the scenery when the door, which he didn’t notice as it was painted over to seamlessly fit into the painting, opened to reveal an extremely messy Damian Wayne who is still wearing the clothes he had on the prior day. Every inch of his friend was covered in an assortment of dried colors that only seem to stick out more on his black sweater. The older boy immediately notices Jon is awake and greets him to a new day.

“I see that you’ve risen from your importu sleepover.” He taunts in that haughty manner the younger has long since learned to be his default tone.

“Morning Dami!” Jon says back only for it to come out in a horsed choke. Damian tosses him a water bottle he happened to carry in with him, most likely anticipating his thirst. After chugging half of the liquid down, Jon smiles to his friend and asks, “Did you stay up all night to finish this?”

The young Wayne nods in response as she quietly closes the door behind him. “Mostly. I took the occasional break to rest my eyes, but other than that I did stay up for a significantly longer portion of the night.”

“It’s amazing! Where is this place? Did you make it up? I’ve never seen anything like it! Is that a real castle? What’s up with the rock skull? What kind of flowers are those? Is this somewhere we can visit?” Jon begins to hyperly question at a rapid-fire pace jumping in his seat.

Damian chuckles at Jonathan’s enthusiasm and sits down next to him to gaze at the scenery as well. “It is an absolutely splendid place, Jonathan. How I wish I could show you but alas it is not somewhere meant to be merely visited. This is my home.”

“That island with no kids?” 

“Infinity Island.” He clarifies. “You mentioned that this room should represent me. I honestly have no idea how a trip to a market would accomplish that but it did give me the opportunity to think about it. Ever since coming here, I have learned that my upbringing, while superior in many ways, was lacking. I have spent an exuberant amount of time and energy wondering what reason my mother could have sent me here to live amongst the plebeians. At first, I believed that she wanted me to fight alongside Father in his quest for justice; To learn from one of the world’s greatest minds.

“I see now that I haven’t grown out of making foolish assumptions like Mother has chided for repeatedly. While I think that is still a purpose I must fulfill it is not the only reason I come here. I was brought here to experience the world my Grandfather wants to save and see for myself why it needs to be. I never once questioned the Demon Head but a blind follower is not more than a puppet. Experiencing life outside the League has given me many opportunities and priceless experiences that I will take with me back to Infinity Island so that I may share it with my people. Once Alfred brought out the paints I was struck with the inspiration to create something that will remind me of my home and why I’m here.”

Jonathan watches his friend reminisce about his thoughts and feelings about his home with such a warm and loving smile. It must have been contagious because now he couldn’t stop the warm bloom in his chest from spreading to his lips as his previously energetic expression mellowed out into something more serene. He wraps the blanket tighter around him to fight against the cool breezy entering through the open window and hugs his knees against his chest to enjoy the calm silence between them.

Damian meanwhile is lost in his memories as he reaches out to the mural with his left hand but never touching; for if he did the illusion would be broken and he would remember that the sight wasn’t real. It was only an illusion he created. A mere mockery of his real home that he built to fill the void it left behind. 

“Guess you are a prince, huh?” Jon quips pointing to the castle detailed on the wall to their left. “Cause that’s a freaking castle and you said you weren’t a prince! Only princes live in castles.”

The paint covered child laughs humorously at Jonathan’s accusations of his lineage. “Hahahaha! Y-you- I can’t believe you’re still holding onto that ridiculous notion! Jonathan, for the last time I am not a prince. My family just happens to have lots of power.”

“That sounds incredibly princely to me! If you look like a prince, act like a prince, and live in a castle you must be a prince.” Jon argues back pushing playfully against Damian's shoulder. 

“Jon-”

“Deny it all you want Dami but that-” He points to the grand palace once more. “Is a flipping castle that a prince lives in. You should take me one day cause I bet it would be the best place to play tag or paintball. Speaking of which I still haven’t shown you what paintball was.”

“Maybe we can partake in that game at a later date, but as I mentioned before Infinity Island is not a place once can visit. It’s not some leisurely resort that houses guests for mere pleasantries.” Damian explains growing a more somber tone. “We must enjoy the time we have now for when I am to be taken home I doubt I’ll be allowed to return. Once I’m home I must put all my energy into becoming the leader of my people.”

He let his fingers graze the now dry grass painted on the flat surface to help break him out of his stupor before he turns to his companion who has seemingly gone silent. That could mean one of two things: He’s thinking about something completely off-topic or he’s blacking out again. When he turns to the smaller boy next to the bed the demon’s son is immediately thrown for a loop as he notices Jonathan having the look of complete and utter dread upon his features. 

Before Damian could inquire about Jon’s current state the child breaks the now uncomfortable momentary silence that has formed between them. His voice is unstable while it appears the blood in his usually glowing face has vanished making his skin resemble a lifeless husk. “Y-y-you’re lea… you’re leaving?”

“Yes, of course.” He clarifies in a dull demeanor. He doesn’t understand why this upsets Jonathan since he has explained this fact to the boy early on in their relationship, long before Damian could actually tolerate him. “When I complete Father’s education or Father has proven him inadequate my mother will come and take me home so that I may fulfill my destiny. You know this Jonathan.”

He did indeed know that his time with Damian wasn’t going to be forever but the Kryptonian hybrid never put any thought into that reality. He was so content on believing that he and Damian will continue to be near each other and continue like they were currently. Jon does his best to put on a gentle expression to probe, “H-how long do you think that will take?”

“Mmm… I don’t know.” He answers with the utmost honesty. “That is why I say we enjoy our time together now rather than later. There are still many things I know you want to show me.”

“W-well when you go back will we be able to visit each other as we do now? I mean we won’t get to see each other at school but if I can’t visit you maybe you can visit me for the holidays or summer break. Do you think we could write to each other like penpals?” Jon asks hopefully only to have his spirits swiftly shot down. 

“No. It’s not a place for someone… good. I doubt I’ll have the time for such pleasantries once I take leadership.” Damian grieves remembering how isolated the island was. He isn’t eager to go back home and have the only person his age to associate with be his insufferable cousin again but sacrifices must be made for the greater good. 

The answer is clearly not what Jon wanted to hear as he’s practically gone catatonic where he sat. Damian moves to shake him out of his stupor but it doesn’t matter as the boy is completely frozen to the point nothing will snap him out of it. It’s almost as though the very idea of being in a world without Damian in it was breaking him on the inside. 

Everything was going fine previously but now the child is spiraling down into an abyss of his own mind. A world without Damian should affect him like this; he lived nearly his entire existence without the assassin in his life. Jon tries to compare this experience to when he moved away from Hamilton, from his whole world. It doesn’t hurt nearly as much as he’s hurting now by just **_thinking_ **about Damian leaving him behind. 

“Jon? Jon, buddy, Chickadee? Answer me!” Red Robin demands, shaking his shoulder icy again. “Come on-”

A rustle from his left signals to a newcomer Jon doesn’t remember being there previously landing onto the scene just over the roaring wave. “Babe, come on. Let’s just pick him up and head back home.”

“Superboy, I’ve tried that but he’s been using his strength to hold himself at the edge of the peer.” The older teen replies nudging Jonathan again. “Jon, please.”

But he doesn’t respond. How could he respond to anything after what just happened? Almost robotically the ten-year-old stands to his feet much to the surprise of the teenagers next to him. He attempts to leap off the docks and into the ocean but doesn’t even reach the cold winter waters as large muscular arms sweep themselves under Jonathan’s armpits and lift him off into the air.

“Jon, you’re bulletproof, not hypothermia proof!” His older brother hollers next to his ear as Tim grabs his ankles. “You don’t have super healing or a super immune system!” 

The child’s reaction is violent as he thrashes with all of his might to escape both male’s grip to enter the dark unforgiving waters. “LET ME GO! HE’S DROWNING- HE WAS TRYING TO SAVE ME! HE’S STILL IN THERE! KON, TIM, LET ME GO! I’LL KILL YOU IF YOU DON’T LET ME GO!”

“JON, STOP! WE DON’T KILL!” The vigilante yells while the Kryptonian clone toughens his grip. 

“RED, THIS IS NOT THE TIME TO BE SPOUTING THE BAT’S GOLDEN RULE!”

There's a horrible cracking sound amongst the turmoil but Jon’s relentless aggression never pauses and manages to get one of his legs free. He swings his free limb upwards to break his captor’s face when he hears his mentor’s voice try and reason with him. “Jon…” Tim begins with a sob. “I’m sorry, but he’s gone.”

“HE’S NOT! SHUT UP, SHUT UP, SHUT UP! YOU DON’T KNOW WHAT YOU’RE TALKING ABOUT! YOU DIDN’T EVEN LIKE HIM-”

“Just listen!” He commands tightening his grip on the leg he still has in his grasp. “If you won’t listen to me then listen to him! You’re always attuned to his heartbeat so listen to him! You of all people should know him better than any of us, you can hear him better than anyone else. You have the most advanced super hearing compared to everyone else! So just listen to him.”

And Jon does. He listens and listens carefully. Jon tenses the muscles in his ears to listen for that ferocious heartbeat, the heart that never stops fighting. The rhythmic pattern he listens into on those nights being a hero becomes too much. He searches deep into the ocean for his best friend, his lifeline, his everything, but he can’t find him. 

All he hears is silence. 

His body goes limp with the retaliation that Damian is really gone. That couldn’t be possible. There couldn’t be a world if there wasn’t a Damian living within it. Jon finally allows himself to cry as he cranes his neck to Tim, who is now sporting a broken arm, and cries, “Why can’t I hear him? Why can’t I hear his heartbeat? He said he would be right behind me… that he wouldn’t leave me behind. He promised…”

The man in red doesn’t give him an answer as he just pulls his black cowl back to reveal the tears streaming down his royal blue eyes. That only solidifies the reality he’s now forced to live in and the second he’s set down on the damp wood of the pier he drops to his knees still muttering the same questions over and over again. “Why can’t I hear it? Where is he? Where’s Damian’s heartbeat? WHY CAN’T I HEAR HIM!?”

“Damian, I heard Jon screaming from the kitchen! What’s wrong with him?!” The familiar call of his father begs as he takes his son into his arms. 

“I- he’s having another blackout!”

“A what?”

“You mean you don’t know? He didn’t tell you!?”

Jon can barely make out any other words as the world around him felt like it was deafened by cotton in his ears. Other people join the fray questioning what was happening, but they were overshadowed when Jon began to chaotically mutter to himself, rocking back and forth on his knees, curling inward with his fingers clutching against the flesh of his scalp. “Why can’t I hear him? Why can’t I hear him? Why can’t I hear him? Why can’t I hear him? Why can’t I hear him? Why can’t I hear him? Why can’t I hear him? Why can’t I hear him? Why can’t I hear him? Why can’t I hear him? Why can’t I hear him? Why can’t I-”

And then the veil was lifted. 

All at once, he could hear everything when the world was muffled just seconds before. Every breath, step, and word from all around him can be heard for miles on end. From the sound of bats in the cave beneath the manor grounds to the traffic of early morning Gotham city can all be heard at once with the same intensity. He could even go further and listen to the chirping of birds as their flapping wings resonate through the air around them. Another step further and he can hear the sound of ships parking at the docks in Metropolis. Jon could even hear a place so far from where he was that no one spoke English. Soon the seven-year-old is under the sea with the chimes of sonars beating his eardrums as if here were right there. 

“Make it stop! Make it stop!” He screams urgently only to have the sound of his own voice overshadowed by the racket of the entire world around him. 

All the noises overstimulate his senses and Jon desperately covers his ears to block out all of the stimuli but it does nothing; all the sounds are still crystal clear to Jon. His tiny child’s body collapses further onto the floor and he tries to protect himself by covering the silk sheet around his ears to no avail. Everything was still too loud, still too much. He only realizes that his eyes were closed when a hand grabs his wrists and pulls out of his father’s grip with more strength than necessary causing Jon to accidentally fall on his friend’s chest. 

“Jonathan, what’s wrong!?” Damian hollers before the air is abruptly squeezed out of him by the thin arms of the younger boy. 

He doesn’t reply as he is too busy tightening his constricting embrace on the other, pressing the side of his head to the center of Damian’s ribcage. It was almost as if the earth disappeared and the clamor of life went along with it. It was finally quiet. He felt as some benevolent God granted his wish to allow Jon to hear the only sound that matters; the sound of Damian’s still-beating heart. 

Ba-bump Ba-bump Ba-bump Ba-bump Ba-bump

“And here I thought you would ease up on hugging, you hypocrite.” His friend teases running his fingers through Jonathan’s messy ebony black hair. 

“Damian,” Mr. Wayne sighs, shaking his head at the scene in front of him. “Now is not the time for those kinds of comments.”

Ba-bump Ba-bump Ba-bump Ba-bump Ba-bump

“I beg to differ, Father. Now is a perfectly reasonable time for this. He’s finally settled down… I think- I think he just developed super-hearing.”

Ba-bump Ba-bump Ba-bump Ba-bump Ba-bump

“That certainly does explain his reaction.” Clark laments rubbing his son’s back with his large hand. “To suddenly be able to hear everything would be too much for a child to comprehend. It was too much for me to understand even in my late teens.”

Ba-bump Ba-bump Ba-bump Ba-bump Ba-bump

Lois and Kara crouch down next to Jon and try to take him off the other child to no avail. “He’s calmed down. Do you think it went away?” The younger woman questions seeing that her little cousin is relieved from his previous pain.

“Jon, sweetie,” His mother coos softly in case his senses are still too sensitive. “Do your ears still hurt? What can you hear?”

Ba-bump Ba-bump Ba-bump Ba-bump Ba-bump

He doesn’t respond for a long while as he focuses his energy on the sound of Damian’s heartbeat like it was the only thing keeping him alive. All of the adults in the room patiently wait for his response before Lois tries asking again. This time Jon does answer. “It doesn’t hurt anymore. I can hear you and Dami.”

Ba-bump Ba-bump Ba-bump Ba-bump Ba-bump

“Damian?” Dick asks looking at his little brother who just shrugs still ensnared in Jonathan’s hold. “Damian’s not talking.”

Ba-bump Ba-bump Ba-bump Ba-bump Ba-bump

“But I can hear his heartbeat.”

Ba-bump Ba-bump Ba-bump Ba-bump Ba-bump

“I can always hear him now.”

Ba-bump Ba-bump Ba-bump Ba-bump Ba-bump

“No matter where he is I can find him.”

Ba-bump Ba-bump Ba-bump Ba-bump Ba-bump

“And he won’t be able to leave me behind.”

Jonathan sighs content as he presses his head further into Damian’s chest with complete and utter relief filling his soul. With the thought that he would always be able to find his best friend fresh in his mind, he closes his eyes to focus on the rhythmic beating of the other’s heart. So preoccupied with his own content Jon is unable to witness the petrified expressions of horror growing on everyone’s faces around him. 

Ba-bump Ba-bump Ba-bump Ba-bump Ba-bump

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Y'all now know I spend way too much time in IKEA. Like, I don't even buy anything, I'm just there with friends for no freaking reason. 
> 
> That aside there were many things in this chapter I wanna talk about, but that's too much so I'll share a few random thoughts. I haaaaaaaaaate backgrounds and landscapes so since the last one I did was a city I thought I go the opposite direction this time and make something with more nature. I think it turned out okay but I'm biased af. Next thing, anyone who knows anything about the Leauge of Assassins knows that they should not be raising any children. Exhibit A, B, and C is Damian Wayne. I love him but he's 10 different levels of fucked up and 8 of those are because of the al-Ghul. The order in which Jonathan gets his superpowers and how are of course going to be different cause we were never in cannon. I didn't want to just give Jon all of his powers either because in the comics he gets his at age 8 (I think) and it's hard to write characters that can just do everything right off the bat.
> 
> Anyways, thanks for reading! I really appreciate it and I'll see y'all next week for the next chapter!
> 
> Next chapter: Jon meets some old friends and comes to some new revelations.


	23. Reunions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Halloween is happening and Jon is here for it 1000%! What wonders will await him and his best friend on their first spooky holiday together?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> EDIT: Hey y'all it's 7/19 as of this update and edit! Just want to let y'all know there won't be any new chapters for a bit. Nothing is wrong but things are getting quite busy for me out of nowhere. The latest I'll upload a new chapter will probably be early August. I apologize for not being able to continue my consistency uploads until then! Thank you!
> 
> Y'all, it's so weird writing a Halloween chapter in July but I'm here for it and I'm doing it.
> 
> Thank you for reading as always and I should really work on making the chapter hints vaguer cause it's getting really obvious what I'm doing. Maybe that's a good thing? Oh well, not gonna change now. Or maybe it means that you guys are just really smart and I'm just too easy to read. 
> 
> Also, I don't know how this happened but we're almost to 4k hits and I think most of them are mine cause I have to keep looking back at what I wrote for reference. It's a long-ass story so I'm always making sure I'm remembering thins correctly. 
> 
> ANYWAYS! I hope y'all enjoy this chapter!

Jonathan Samuel Kent loves Halloween! The sound of happy children munching on all of the free candy they want, the spectacle of wonderfully spooky decorations, and the feeling of dressing up in wonderful costumes are all supposed to blend into the perfect concoction of autumn time fun. Sure, therapy has been awkward and they were clearly waiting for him to tell them something, but other than that things have been normal. Life was going great for the young half-Kryptonian as the only things of interest going on in his life since obtaining his super hearing were his Wonder Woman costume preparations. He has all of the construction paper and glue he needs to make this costume the best one yet!

“Jon, you have school tomorrow.” His mom reminds him while standing at the entrance of his door frame. “ You really should have started to work on your costume earlier rather than the night before. This better not become a habit on your homework.”

“It won’t! I promise!” Jon responds, wrapping a grey sheet of paper around his forearm. “It’ll be really quick! I already got a shirt, found a rope for a lasso, and painted my old jeans! All I have to do is make the jewelry and shoe covers!”

Lois smiles at her cheerful little boy and takes a picture of him with an old instant camera. There are still spots in Jon’s eyes as she shakes the photo in her hand. The brunette delivers it to her husband while he was working at the kitchen counter. Clark lifts it up and cheekily says, “Another for the scrapbook!” 

Jon continues to work on his costume for another hour until he was a million times sure that he was finished for tomorrow’s school Halloween Parade! Apparently, Metropolis has a tradition where all of the schools and community centers dress up and walk around town to celebrate the holiday. It wasn’t always a big deal but in recent years due to the lack of festivities in Gotham, it has become more of a spectacle. There were tourists from all over who come and to witness the adorable and wholesome sight of kids just celebrating the holiday. Even the usual Metropolis villains have an understanding with each other that there were two holidays you don’t mess with; Halloween and Christmas.

The next day he got all dressed up as Wonder Woman and was practically rolling in his car seat with anticipation. The second-grader couldn’t even keep a steady hand on his blue pumpkin-shaped trick-or-treat bucket causing the cheap plastic to continuously fall to the floor of his dad’s truck. Once he got to school he practically skipped over to his table and began chatting with them about his excitement.

“Guys, this is going to be so awesome! I’ve never been in a parade before! I even get free candy for it!”

The redhead diagonal from him pushes her hair out of her Batwoman cowl with an annoyed huff. “That’s great but I just hope my costume doesn’t fall apart! My mommy and I spent forever on it and if it doesn’t stay together I’m going to freak out!” 

The blond boy next to her scoffs at her worries and adjusts his cowboy hat. “Oh come off it Ava. It’s not like anyone will be looking at you anyway.”

“Hey!”

“Benjamin, be nice and apologize to her.” Mrs. Miller scolds while standing next to the entrance to greet her students. 

Benjamin pouts and turns to the girl with a reluctant apology. “I’m sorry.”

Ava pouts back and replies, “You’re forgiven.” The little girl turns to Jon and looks at his costume with a smile. “Nice Wonder Woman costume! I thought you were going to be Superman cause you have all that Superman stuff with you all the time.”

“I just wanted to try something different.” He illustrates it by adjusting his construction paper crown. 

“Only girls are supposed to dress as her cause, ya know, she’s called Wonder _Woman_.” A mean brunette in a wedding dress mocks gaining the attention of all three present members of the blue table. “You trying to tell us something country boy?”

Mrs. Miller is about to chastise the girl for her remark when Benjamin spits back with, “Hey, at least he's something cool and not some stupid bride!”

“It’s not stupid! Your stupid and that outfit is dumb! It’s made of paper! What, are your mommy and daddy too poor to buy you a real costume?” The girl titters, causing her friends to do the same. 

“How about you shut your stupid face, Alyssa, before I come over there and beat it in like Jon did to Mathew!” Ava growls shaking her leather-gloved fist in her classmate's direction. 

Jonathan winces at the comment still feeling bad for what he did and unconsciously glances at the back of the classroom to the orange table where Mathew, dressed as a vampire, was quietly trying to sink into his seat. The boy flinches when he notices Jonathan’s eyes on him and both of them turn away ashamed. Their teaching was having none of it and came between both their tables and reprimands them.

“This is supposed to be a fun day! I will not have my student be so rude to one another. If you all don’t get your acts together and apologize right now I will take all three of you to the office where you all will stay until after the parade! Do I make myself clear!” 

All of the children involved apologize to each other until their teacher is satisfied and returns to the doorway. When his tablemates turn back in their seats to face him, Jon thanks them for standing up for him. “Thanks, but you guys didn’t have to do that.”

“We did.” The blond cowboy states with his arms crossed as he speaks in a more hushed tone so Mrs. Miller wouldn’t be able to hear him. “She’s always being nasty and if I wasn’t a boy I would punch her.”

“I dunno what being a boy has to do with that, but if that’s what stops you I’ll do it,” Ava says as they share a high-five. “It’s what Batwoman would do.”

“Guys no!” Jon frantically whispers, tightening his grip on his bucket. “We aren’t supposed to fight people who make us mad. I mean… It feels really bad and wrong. I don’t want to go through that again.”

“Through what?” Georgia questions as she arrives at the table dressed as a knight in shining armor. 

“Holy cow Georgia, your costume is so cool!” The littlest Kent compliments looking at her shiny outfit in awe along with the rest of his table.

“Thanks! My cousin who does cosplay helped me make it!” She says as she sits down next to Jon. “What were you guys talking about?”

“Nothing big, Alyssa was just being mean about Jonathan’s costume.” The boy across Jonathan sigh folding his hands over the tabletop.

The dark-skinned girl waves off the situation with a cheerful grin and lifts a large pillowcase. “Whatever, she’s not worth the energy. What’s important now is that we collect as much candy as possible! ALL OF THE CANDY!” 

“Yeah!” All three of them shout in unison holding up their candy carrying devices. 

“So how does the parade work? Do we just follow our school? How do we get candy?” Jon asks eagerly to his classmates. 

“Well, we follow our class behind a bunch of other classes and people throw candy at us!” Georgia explains to him and the boy frowns.

“Aw, I guess that means I can’t go visit Dami.” He laments looking down at his pail. The boy really wanted to be there with his friend when he experiences Halloween for the first time. 

Ava grins mischievously at him and taunts, “Your _friend_ Damian Wayne?”

Benjamin nudges her with his elbow to back off. “Give him a break Ava, he already has Alyssa teasing him.”

“Heeeeey!” Jon whines with a petulant look. “What’s with that tone?” 

“Nothing, it’s nothing.” She replies in a joking sing-song timbre. 

Brown eyes roll at the scene before them and the knight tells Jon, “Don’t worry Jon, as long as you’re back with the class before the parade ends no one will notice if you sneak off. Most of us do it anyway to visit our friends from other classes. If the teachers say anything then we’ll cover for you.”

“Thanks!”

Class still has to go on for the morning half of the day, yet it was clear that no one was paying attention to the lessons being taught. Thankfully they didn’t go into anything new or complicated since they mostly did Halloween-themed math problems and crossword puzzles. When lunch finally came around Jon practically ran to the door to be first in line so that he could meet up with Damian faster. After Lunch, everyone was supposed to line up by grades then classes to head out to the front of the school to join the parade. That means he only has lunchtime to devise an entire strategy on how to get the most candy.

Once he got to their usual secluded spot on the second floor Jon waited patiently at their table for him. Five minutes passed and the boy began to wonder if he should get his food first cause Damian is running later than usual. He focuses his ears on Damian’s heartbeat, something he’s made sure to stay attuned to at all times, to see if he arrived at the cafeteria yet. He can hear that he’s already in the building so he should be up the stairs any second now.

Five more minutes pass and Jon decides that something is clearly wrong. The seven-year-old is hungry and worried about his friend so he ventures down to the lunch lines to find where the heck he is. He doesn’t make it far down the stairs when he’s suddenly accosted by familiar tan hands and taken around the corner to a mostly empty area. Jon doesn’t panic cause he already knows who it is.

Once free Jon turns around to find an embarrassed and enraged Damian Wayne dressed up in a Nightwing uniform. The boy openly gawks at the other’s costume choice when fingers snap in front of his face. “Eyes up here Jonathan.” He chastises when he notices the younger staring at his abominable muscles. 

“Huh, Wha- Sorry.” He sputters out flustered that he’s been caught staring. “Cool Nightwing costume! Where were you? I waited ten whole minutes for you and you didn’t show up!”

“-Tt- It’s bad enough that I have to dress like this for school but I refuse to parade around like this in front of an entire city!” Damian groans covering his masked face with the palms of his hands. “I already know how bad it’s going to get if the reaction of Gordon’s new charge is anything to go by.”

Jon tilts his head in confusion at the mention of a new person. “Who?”

“You remember that red-headed woman who works with my father? The one in the wheelchair?” He asks condescendingly.

The boy dressed as Wonder Woman thinks for a bit before the metaphorical light bulb goes off in his mind. “I remember! I think she said her name was Oracle.”

“Well her father is fostering a boy and my father is forcing me to mingle with him. Said I, ‘Need to interact with other children who are not Jonathan once in a while.’” He scoffs crossing his arms with a scowl. “It’s bad enough I care for one person, but to expect me to do it for two? Ridiculous.” 

Jon blinks for a moment doing his best to take in all the information he’s just heard and responds appropriately. “Dami that’s great! I think more friends is a good thing!”

Emerald eyes roll from behind the white lenses of his blue domino mask as he replies, “Jonathan, it’s not great. Haven’t you ever heard the phrase, quality over quantity.”

“I don’t even know what those words mean.” He states with an exasperated look.

“-Tt- Of course you don’t. As always it’s my job to fill in the gaps this egregious school system has left behind in your brain.” Damian ridicules him with an exceptionally nasty temper. 

Jon knows better than to take it to heart seeing as his friend is not the best with expressing his emotions and sighs before telling him, “Okay, but can we talk about how dumb you think I am over food? I’m like, super-duper hungry and you already made me wait to eat. I need all of the energy I can get for the parade!”

“Fine, but we must stay in the shadows else he’ll find us.” The leotard-clad boy instructs already pulling his friend by the hand to the dairy-free lunch line at a brisk pace. 

“Who?” He asks when a lighter-toned voice calls out to the older boy from across the serving area. 

“Damian! There you are!”

The kid being referred to stops in his tracks with a grunt and replies to Jonathan’s question with a cruel, “Urgh, him.”

Jon looks behind him to see who it was only to have his heart immediately freeze up at the mob of short reddish locks that laid underneath a police officer hat. It wasn’t just the hair color that made him tense up where he stood but also the pale blue eyes, the pasty white skin, boney complexion, and the exuberant amount of scars on his skin. He recognizes each and every single detail from the taller boy, taller than Damian. 

“Geez man, it’s really lame that you tried to abandon me on my first day here.” The child in the fake police uniform notes with an annoyed grimace as he catches up to them. His expression changes to a more polite one once he notices the younger boy currently burying his face in Damian’s neck to hide. “Who’s this?”

The older boy nudges his friend several times only accomplishing to make him press himself further into the other. “And here I thought you liked meeting new people.” Damian teasingly chastises before glaring up at the newcomer. “This is Jonathan Samuel Kent, but he likes to go by Jon.”

“Your friend seems kinda shy.” He observes, fixing the dark blue cap on his head. “Sorry to scare you, Jon. I’m Colin Wilkes!”

Jonathan doesn’t turn to face him and mumbles a quiet, “Hi…” against the skin of the fifth grader’s neck. 

Damian narrows his eyes further at Jonathan’s out of character reaction to Colin and protectively pulls the boy closer while turning away. “He’s usually not like this meaning that you’re more vexatious than I was first led to believe. Leave us alone.”

Hurriedly Jonathan lifts his head slightly, causing the construction paper crown on his head to become crooked, and whispers in the older boy’s ear, “Dami, it’s fine. Take him to our table and I’ll catch up after I get my food, okay?”

Emerald eyes glower down to his companion’s pleading face for a moment before sighing, choosing to trust his judgment and let go of him. He faces the tall redhead and announces, “Be grateful Wilkes, for Jonathan has graciously sanctioned you to sit with us at our lunch table.”

“Dude, just call me Colin.” The ten-year-old sighs as he follows Damian up the stairs next to them while Jon skedaddles into the line, making sure to cover his face to the best of his abilities. 

He doesn’t think his glasses are going to help him hide his face from the older boy. Now, Jon is honestly extremely glad to see that the other boy is okay after escaping but he remembers vividly that Colin was not happy with how things ended. Like, angry screaming levels of not happy. Jonathan could not risk him going ballistic in the middle of the cafeteria if he did remember. 

It also doesn’t help that Colin is not stupid so once he recognizes Jonathan he’ll know that Damian is Dami and therefore figure out that his dad is Batman. These are all bad things that will definitely happen because Jon couldn’t keep his stupid mouth shut and stick to codenames! Damian is without a doubt going to kill him once he finds out.

“Arrggghhh! Why didn’t we make a code for Jon messed up!?” The boy internally laments as he grabs a meal from the counter and pays for it using his student ID. 

Jon didn’t have a plan to stop that from happening and he wasn’t going to just avoid the other. The best thing he can think of doing is to pray to every God, spirit, and whatever else is out there that Colin is face-blind. He takes in a deep breath and jogs up the stairs with his meal. He makes sure to adjust his glasses so that they wouldn’t fall off and holds his try up high to obscure part of his face. 

The two at the table were discussing something mundane when he got there and Jon promptly sat himself on the bench next to Damian instead of next to Colin. They stop talking due to the second grader’s odd behavior seeing as the boy turned his face away from them. They stay in that awkward silence for a couple of seconds before his best friend speaks up.

“Jonathan, what are you doing?”

Jon swallows the lump in his throat and answers Damian’s question with another question in a hushed volume. “You love me, right?” 

He openly gapes at Jonathan and replies, “Yes?” in the most disoriented tone Jon’s ever heard him utter. 

“Okay… Don’t freak out.” And with that Jon sets his try down with a swift clatter on the glass tabletop and stares directly into Colin’s face with a jittery smile and voice. “Heeeeey, Colin.”

The reaction isn’t immediate as the boy simply raises a brow at the boy dressed up as a dollar store Wonder Woman. “Um… Hi, again Jon? I just greeted you like- a minute ago.”

Sky blue eyes glimmer with relief thinking that his glasses are actually enough to disguise himself and he releases a breath he didn’t remember holding. “Oh thank God! Nevermind Dami-”

“Wait for a second-” Oh crap. “Dami?” 

Damian sighs as he stabs into the salad he brought from home. “If you even try to call me that I will end you.”

Colin stares at the two of them for what Jon feels like forever when his eyes suddenly grow to the size of saucers as he whips his head from side to side at them. His jaw drops as he shoots up from his chair toppling it over and points at the young Wayne heir. “You’re an asshole!” 

“I beg your pardon?”

“AND YOU!” The redhead growls lunging forward grabbing the child by the collar of his shirt furiously. He begins to shake the boy down when Damian retaliates by immediately grabbing his fork and pressing it hard against the assailant’s neck in the most discreet way possible as to not alert the teachers patrolling the grounds. 

Colin halts his actions at the metalware on his skin and Jon faces Damian with a panicked face. “Dami-”

It was at that moment Jonathan was reminded that his friend is a trained killer. Damian didn’t even look up from his food and with a completely aloof and neutral expression that somehow radiates unadulterated poison composedly commands, “When I take this fork off your person you will calmly go pick up your chair. You will take a seat in front of us as if nothing happened. If a lunch monitor comes by to ask what just transpired you will tell them that everything is fine; you got worked up over something stupid. Then we will talk like civilized people. If you fail to comply with my demands I will drive this utensil through your esophagus and dump your corpse in front of Commissioner Gordon’s house. I will make it look like Scarecrow came after you, or hide it to leave him wondering if you were taken by another Metahuman trafficking ring. Blink twice if you understand me.”

Colin blinks twice, cold sweat dripping down the side of his face. 

“Good.” Damian lets off the pressure then sets his utensil back down while Colin quickly gets to work fixing his seat.

Jon glares at his friend and grounds his dismay out his clenched teeth. “Dami, I said not to freak out.”

The older boy casually steals Jonathan’s plastic utensil from his tray and uses it to continue his meal. “I don’t know why you’re so displeased. I found myself immensely well mannered and calm during the short ordeal.”

“Not freaking out also means don’t threaten people.” Jon sighs as the redhead takes his place back down in front of them.

He shrugs in response as he takes a bite from his greens. “I’ll keep that in mind for next time.”

Jonathan sighs and does his best to give the nervous and scared Colin a bright and reassuring smile. “Sorry about that! Dami is super nice once you get to know him! So how have you been?”

The tall child gawks at Jonathan inaudibly for several more painfully long seconds before leaning back in his chair and facepalming. “Superbo- Jon I guess. Do you even know about the trauma you’ve put me through with half the crap you pulled in the four hours I’ve known you? I don’t think there has been a day where I didn’t fear for your life with the magnet of crazy that you are.”

“You too, huh?” Damian rudely comments, earning himself an elbow in the gut from the seven-year-old. 

“Look, I’m really really really sorry about not warning you about eating my arm off or making you leave me behind, but I had to save Dami,” Jon explains calmly taking a bite of his corndog. “I mean, I think I might’ve made things worse by driving the van off a bridge into Gotham Bay but at least he didn’t get delivered to the bad people.”

Colin takes in a deep calming breath as he rubs his eyes with his finger beer putting his hand down next to his brown-bagged lunch. He reaches inside and hands the younger child a box of apple juice. “First off, I owe you this.”

“Thanks!” Jon cheers happily as he goes to open it only for it to be slammed back down onto the counter by Damian. 

“Jon, how many times do I have to tell you not to immediately accept drinks from strangers.”

“Colin’s not a stranger so it’s okay.” Jon defends as he takes the drink back. 

“Fine. “ He relents but still judgmentally watches his friend. “I see you’ve also gone and divulged our identities to a boy you’ve only known for approximately four hours at most.”

Jon chokes on his drink and wearily stares at the masked boy. “Um… I’m sorry?” He meekly tries to apologize only to be smacked upside the head. 

“One day I might actually smack some sense into you but for now this will have to do.” Then he smacks Jon again.

The child doesn’t flinch at being hit and he continues to sip his juice while Colin looks at the interaction between them. He examines them carefully for a bit longer then decides to comment. “Jon, since you’re here and with your friend, I need to tell you something I’ve been holding in for over a month. I need your friend not to kill me when I say this.”

“Sure!” Jon says with his mouth full.

“Okay,” Colin clasps his hands together as he sets his arms down on the cool surface of the table. The younger boy thinks it looks a bit funny seeing as he’s in a police uniform and feels like he’s about to be interrogated. The redhead takes in a deep breath with a serious expression on his face before he glares up at them. “You-” He looks to Damian. “Are a fucking asshole. What kind of friend are you to tell Jon he’s not human? Do you even know the weird crap I had to deal with because of that? Alien or not the kid doesn’t even think he’s human! What the heck did you have to do to him to get him to that point? Honestly, you have not experienced the level of What-The-Fuck I have until you see a child in pajamas gore their own arm off just to press a freaking button! He didn’t even flinch! There is a new level of nightmare fuel I have with the image of him walking up to me with blood dripping down his face holding his arm like nothing is wrong when EVERYTHING is wrong! Also, this self-sacrificial moron does everything for you and you’re still a jerk! How do you live with yourself?!”

“Hey, don’t be mean to Dami.” Jon scolds only to have Colin’s cold fury directed to him.

“AND YOU. You are seven. SEVEN. That’s not even in the double digits. What is wrong in your head that makes you so obsessed for a guy you knew for only two months? Like, this goes beyond a simple friendship. Do you know how fucking messed up you are? Like- Do you? Do you really? I know many seven-year-olds and while you’re not completely different but Jesus fucking Christ you are on a level of crazed obsessed I don’t think you even understand. Why do you do all that stuff for him?”

“Well…” The boy begins to answer, then pauses to think about the question. “When I first saw Dami, when I fell from his ceiling-”

“I’m sorry, what?”

“I suddenly felt like I knew him and that he would be one of my best friends if I gave him a chance, and I was right! It was like there was this click in my brain that needed me to be near him. Sure he tried to choke me to death-”

“Oh my God, Jon, why are you like this-”

“And only wanted to use me for my superpower.”

“Jon stop-”

“And there was that time he threw me against a tree.”

“Is there a ‘but’ in this or are you just going to list off messed-up things again?”

“But we all have flaws. We’re only people right? Some people were raised by assassins and need a bit more help opening up. It’s not his fault and thanks to what happened he’s now more open to trying not to hurt me and being a good friend!” Jon finishes saying only to find Colin repeatedly face-palming.

There is a lengthy excruciatingly deep sigh leaving the older boy’s mouth as he drags his nails down his face. “I can’t tell if you’re too forgiving or too messed-up and that’s a real problem.”

“That’s a question for our psychiatrist and therapist to decide,” Damian tells him, finally speaking up through that entire rant. “Are you done?”

“No, but I’ll stop for now cause reasoning with Jon is like trying to negotiate with a brick wall,” Colin replies needing a moment to recompose himself and unwraps a ham and cheese sandwich from his lunch.

The young Wayne boy smirks condescending and elbows the younger boy next to him as he’s found something he can sympathize with. “Finally, at least someone understands my plight.” 

“You’re so lucky Mr. Gordon and Barbara asked me to try and be friends with you.” Colin huffs as he does his best to put on a more pleasing and cheerful disposition. “If it wasn’t for that I would have noped out from your bad attitude hours ago.” 

Jon tilts his head curiously as he just realized how weird it was to meet the other boy again under these circumstances. “Oh yeah, how did that happen?”

The redhead takes his time chewing his meal then answers, “Honestly I’m not really sure. I think it happened after I ran to the nearest GCPD building. I couldn’t find a payphone so I just kinda ran around until I found where the police and Mr. Gordon were. It was terrifying because he tried to touch my collar and almost got electrocuted. I told them everything I knew about the place and next thing I knew a bunch of sirens were going off and I was taken to the hospital.” He takes a break to bite into his sandwich once more. “I don’t know how they got the collar off of me but the doctors apparently had to knock me out. When I woke up I was covered in bandages and Mr. Gordon didn’t want to send me to an orphanage after what happened to me. That’s how I got taken in by him.”

“That’s really cool! So what are you going here? I mean I’m really glad I got to see you again but Gotham is really far.”

“Oh, that? Mr. Gordon wanted me to go to school out of the city after what I went through but couldn’t move away. So because he’s friends with Mr. Wayne and his son goes to school in Metropolis Mr. Gordon thought it would be best I go to school with him. Mr. Wayne is even paying for my tuition.”

“Wow- wait...?” Jon pauses with a raised brow. “I thought school was free.” 

Damian rolls his eyes at his friend’s cluelessness and reveals, “Jonathan, Father is also paying for your schooling as well.” 

“WHAAAAAAA-”

“Don’t act so surprised. Do you honestly think that your parents could pay to send you to an institution such as this one? A year here cost approximately $65,000.” 

With their minds thoroughly blown at that amount of money, both Jon and Colin drop their food on the table before leaning back in their seats with a dumbfounded expression while Damian continues to enjoy his salad uninhibited by the amount of wealth being used on them. Colin stares at the vast expansive glass ceiling of the cafeteria building and gasps, “That’s like… almost half a million dollars if I go all the way to 12th grade. That’s so much money what the heck-”

“That’s enough money to swim in,” Jon states imagining a Scrooge McDuck- Esque pile of gold coins. 

“Why the hell am I here; I can barely afford a candy bar.” 

Damian scoffs at the two’s mystification and mocks, “You both are being poor and dramatic.”

“Sorry not all of us could be children of billionaires.” Colin spits sarcastically as he recovers from his shock. 

“Dami, I think… I think your dad owns me now. I’ll never be able to pay him back and I already owe you and Conner money.” Jon speaks forlornly thinking about how this will affect his future. 

“Oh my god, Bruce Wayne is our sugar daddy now.” Pale boy snorts humorously only to go paler with horror when Jon asks,

“What’s a sugar daddy?”

Glassy blue eyes stare wide-eyed at the boy in the Wonder Woman costume then looks pleadingly to the male the same age as who is staring right back at him. “If you’re waiting for me to explain the term to Jonathan, you’ll be sorely disappointed to hear that I have not heard of it before. You’re now going to have to explain it to both of us.”

Jon has never seen anyone turn white with dread but there was a first time for everything and the half-Kryptonian assumes that this time is now for him. The redhead is almost transparent with how much blood just drained from his face as he looks at the two in front of him with trepidation. “Are… Are you serious? I mean- I… I guess it makes sense you guys wouldn’t know. Jon is seven and you're some spoiled billionaire’s kid. I only know what that is cause I was born on the streets of Gotham.”

“You’re not going to tell us, are you?” Damian states hearing his avoidant tone.

“Please don’t make me.”

Jon frowns at that answer. “How come no one ever tells us anything! It’s not fair! First, no one will tell me how babies are made, and now this! When will I learn!?” 

“Not in this country’s academic system.” With that Damian stands from his seat to collect his trash and Jon notices that he doesn’t have a bag with him. 

The boy lifts his blue pumpkin bucket and shakes it in front of his friend’s face. “Dami, how come you don’t have anything to catch candy with!”

“Why would I do that? My father is rich; if I wanted cheap sweets I would just buy them instead of begging for it like a pauper.” He replies judgmentally looking down at Jonathan. 

“Damian, do you not know how to celebrate Halloween? I mean I know it’s not really a thing we do in Gotham, but there are so many cartoons about it.” Colin tells him reaching into the pocket of his uniform pants and pulling out a folded paper shopping bag. “It doesn’t matter if you can buy candy but it’s about having fun and winning.”

That got Damian’s attention. “Winning?”

“Yeah!” Jon agrees with his hands up in the air in elation. “Sometimes, kids who get full-size candy bars or the most candy that doesn’t suck win the game of life or bragging rights for weeks! I remember getting a whole Kit-Kat bar AND an entire bubble gum tape roll once. I ruled kindergarten the rest of that school year.”

“... Jonathan.” Oooooh, Jon really didn’t like that tone Damian was using right now. “Why do you keep failing to mention the most important details of your silly cultural traditions?”

“Uh… But I did tell you the most important thing; CANDY.” He confirms pointing at his bucket. “And, you know, spending time together. Having fun?”

“Yeah, sure whatever.” The boy brushes off as he contemplates something Jonathan doesn’t understand. 

The other two continue eating in silence, waiting for Damian to tell them what he was thinking about when the chime of the lunch bell eventually rings throughout the cafeteria. This causes the entire elementary school to practically scatter out of their tables and group up into their respective areas so that they can all begin to parade through the city. Jon does the same and runs down the stairs as he waves to the two fifth-graders joyously.

“I’ll see y’all soon!”

“Wait, how will we find you!?” Colin shouts back from next to Damian. 

“Don’t worry, I’ll find you!” Jon responds running down the stairs. He meets up with his class who were neatly lined up on the first floor. The child nearly dropped his “Lasso of Truth” in the massive crowd of students all huddled together. He squeezes past some of his peers until he sees the familiar faces of his tablemates near the front. 

Jon adjusts the glasses on his face as he catches up to them and jumps in front of them merrily. “I’m so excited! I can’t wait! This is going to be so awesome!” 

“I know, right! Man, I can’t wait to see how they decorated the trail this year. Did any of you guys drive by it?” Georgia asks, looking around the four of them. 

Jon and Ava shake their heads but Benjamin raises his hand. “I did! They lined the barriers with hay and other country stuff! My parents are definitely going to want a picture of me in front of it! I’ll look like a real cowboy!” 

“That’s so much better than last year when they used that fake spider web stuff.” The dark-haired girl shivers as she recalls the hideous memory. “Everything got caught in it and it was super dirty looking by the time we got there. Did they get real pumpkins too or is it just going to be plastic jack-o-lanterns again?”

“They got real pumpkins! I don’t know which farm they got them from but there had to be hundreds! Jon, you were raised on a farm; do you know where they got the pumpkins?” The blond boy asks excitedly.

Jonathan huffs and unseriously puts his hands on his hips. “Jus’ cause I was raised on a farm don’t mean I know every farmer ever!” 

“That’s like asking if you know every horse just because your parents bought you a horse!” Ava scolds the boy jokingly as she jabs him in the ribs. 

“Oops, sorry.” 

Five rhythmic claps, two slow and three fast claps, echo through the area and every single child in the room repeats the melody as if they were compelled to by a greater force. No child in the USA could fight the reflex that was practically burned into their brains. Once the brief ceremony was over with one of the headteachers began to announce the beginning of the ceremony and safety precautions. 

It was the usual spiel about how they were not supposed to get out of order and stay with their school. If they get lost look for a teacher or one of the many police officers. Don’t follow strangers and get into vehicles. They also said not to eat any candy until they get back on to school grounds but it was obvious no kid in their right mind was going to follow that rule. 

Once all of that was over they were led out of the building and made to cross the expansive campus of their school. After they pass the front gates they walk a few blocks to the beginning of the street path they were instructed to follow. All around them were festive autumn decor as square hay barrels ran along the sides of the road blocking off the crowds of onlookers throwing bags of candy into the streets. Halloween themed balloons litter the sky and there were many spooky parades floats clearly made by many of the high schools driving slowly between the groups of children; making sure no one gets left behind. There were already several other schools ahead of the West-Reeve Academy so the kids all began excitedly running up to the crowd with open bags and buckets to get as much candy as possible. 

Jonathan and his classmates do the same and before the boy knows it his entire bucket is filled to the brim not even ten minutes in. “Holy cow…” He gawks at his haul and doesn’t know what to do while his friend Georgia grins at him shaking her still spacious pillow sack. 

“Gotta get ahead Kent.” 

“That’s not fair!” 

“All's fair in love and war!” She hollers running up to more people to fill her bag. “By the way, now would be a good time to go meet up with your friend!”

Jon beams at her and he goes running off in the direction of Damian’s heartbeat as he waves to the girl in armor with gratitude. “Oh yeah, thanks!” 

Damian must’ve passed him with Jon realizing it because he was way ahead of Jonathan when he knew that the fifth-graders were supposed to be behind them. Then again everything kind of devolved into organized chaos once the entire school entered the parade. Jonathan runs past the gorgeous amount of candy and confetti being rained down upon him as he does his best to catch up to his companion. 

Unfortunately, there were way too many kids bumping into him that it made it hard to move at a fast pace without shoving everyone violently. Jon is not about to resort to that kind of stuff even if it’s for candy and Damian so he just does his best to move forward. As he nears where the older boy was he’s suddenly knocked asunder by one of the larger sixth-graders and tossed over the hay blockade.

Many pedestrians on the sidewalk jump at the sight of a little boy flying over the small wall and someone catches him before he could even hit the concrete pavement. The person is most likely shorter than Jonathan as it’s clear they’re struggling to carry his height as they set him on his feet. Once it’s clear he’s steady many people begin to check on him before lifting him back up and placing him back in the parade. Jon turns around to thank the people he nearly crashed into when he’s met with a familiar pair of grassy green eyes and light brown freckles.

Meanwhile, Damian and Colin have sprinted ahead of the crowd and their school by extension to meet up with their respective families. Barbara and Jim Gordon, an older middle-aged man with light brown and grey hair, take many pictures of the foster child in his adorable police uniform. Damian is currently demanding a bag from his father for candy.

“Father, I refuse to lose to these commoners in something so trivial as gathering candy! I need the largest bag you can find!” 

Bruce holds both of his hands up defensively and does his best to comfort his short-tempered son. “Damian, Alfred is getting you a bag from one of the stores right now so just be patient.”

“Awwwwwwwwww~! Little D, look over here!” Grayson coos as he uses his cell phone to capture his little brother in a Nightwing costume. “You’re so precious! I’m totally posting this on Instagram! The BPD is going to love this!” 

The young boy snarls at his older brother and attempts to swipe the device from the man’s hands to no avail. “-Tt- Grayson, this was your asinine idea! Stop trying to expose this humiliating attire to the world! It’s not even effective armor! There is no protection and it’s suffocating.” 

The second eldest Wayne sibling rolls his teal eyes at the display and says, “Get over it Hellspawn-”

“Jason, don’t call your brother that.” Bruise sighs pinching the bridge of his nose. Thankfully Alfred is there to relieve the tension of the family as he returns with a large reusable grocery bag. 

He hands the pine green bag to the little boy with a courteous bow and the assassin grins at procuring the object. “Much appreciated Pennyworth.” The child turns to his new acquaintance and announces, “Wilkes, we are heading back to meet Jonathan and get the candy we missed out on!” 

The police commissioner pats his foster son on the top of his police cap and chuckles at the other boy’s eagerness. “I see Damian is excited for his first Halloween.” 

“That he is.” The billionaire smiles as he brushes some of the orange and black confetti off of his expensive fall jacket. “I’m rather surprised. He wasn’t this energetic about it this morning.”

“Maybe seeing all the kids have fun is making him want to feel included.” The redheaded woman in the wheelchair comments as she throws a handful of lollipops into the parade. 

Jason pulls several heresy bars the size of cinder blocks from his backpack then gives his older brother and Barabra a roguish wink. “Imma ‘bout to rain anarchy on these toddlers.”

“Jay, no!” Dick scolds trying to take them from his sibling. 

“Yeah, don’t do that to them!” The young woman agrees with a disapproving frown. “Someone's going to get hurt. At least wait till the older kids walk by before causing another world war.”

“Babs, that‘s not the problem!”

“He has good aim, he’s not going to hit anyone.”

“Ya hear that Dick-face! I have permission to cause a real-world Hunger Games in Metropolis!” 

Damian and Colin begin to head back to their school’s group when a figure in the distance is seen plowing through the crowd at a breakneck pace. The two ten-year-olds immediately recognize the person running in their direction with a surprisingly fast stride. Bruce quirks his brow and asks, “Is that young Jonathan?” 

“Awwww~! He’s Wonder Woman! That’s so adorable!” Dick compliments as he takes a picture of the boy. 

“At least someone has taste.” Jason teases smacking his shorter older brother on the shoulder. 

“Screw you, Nightwing is cool!”

“Biased much.”

Barbara waves to the boy, but is immediately put off guard as she pushes up her lenses and sees the grim expression on his face. “Uh… Guys, I think he’s panicking.”

“Jon-” Damian begins to question when he’s interrupted by the younger frantic shoutings.

“Red! Dami we are on RED! Get me outta here!” Jon screeches as he launches past the two boys and their families. Without even a second to think Damian swoops Jonathan into his arms and begins sprinting at a much faster pace away in the same direction Jonathan was running towards. “Haul me the heck outta here! Knees to chest Dami, we gotta move! Go, go, go!” 

The seven people left behind ogle perplexingly at what just transpired and before they could react a little girl in overalls with blond pigtails ran past them yelling, “JON! JONATHAN SAMUEL KENT GET BACK HERE THIS INSTANT SO THAT I CAN TALK TO YOU!”

“NO!” They hear Jon reply as he’s taken further away into the parade.

The group is silent for many moments before Colin bravely speaks up. “Um… So that happened.”

And no one could disagree with that statement.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Soooooooooooooooooooooo we finally get introduced to she who shall not be named. JK, it's Kathy! She'll be the focus of next chapter so I won't say more than that about her.
> 
> Jon as Wonder Woman and Damian as Nightwing was just a cute idea. There was no other reason than that. Look at them; fucking adorable smols.
> 
> Colin is back! He was always going to come back but the way he was going to be reintroduced changed several times during the development of this story. Like, he was planned since the beginning but he just kept moving around and changing. At least I didn't forget him like SOMEONE. *cough* *cough* DC *cough*. He's such a good and surprisingly normal boy for all the stuff that has happened to him. He's also really tired of Jon's shit but at the same time worried for his safety, a proper reaction to the boy of steel. I'm sad they never got to interact in canon but that's why I write weird fan fiction. 
> 
> Thanks for reading, leave a comment, and hope to see ya next time!
> 
> Next Chapter: Who is Kathy Branden?


	24. Finish Line

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jon is realizing that he'll have to deal with a lot of tough and confusing things in the future, but as long as he's with Damian he knows everything will be okay.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> GODS IT'S BEEN SO LONG! 
> 
> I MISSED DOING THIS SO MUCH! Sorry, I had to take an impromptu break from writing but things came up and everything is fine now! Just some school stuff but it's no big deal. Speaking of school, that's starting again soon so my updates are definitely going to be sporadic but hopefully, they won't take so long! 
> 
> I would like to thank all the people who have read this and the many new people I missed greeting due to my absence! If I don't respond to your comment that doesn't mean I don't read them! Thank you so much, everyone!

Boy meets girl. 

Those simple words say much more than meets the eye. In a plethora of stories told throughout the time, it was the immediate indicator that two people are meant to be. The phrase creates an instant image of a boy and a girl who were destined to be together as a couple. In reality, meetings, especially those between different genders, do not instantly lead to a romantic connection. 

In all honesty, it was rather silly to think that such a short and simple sentence could be a literary shortcut to explain the complexities of interpersonal relationships. Jon is a firm believer in this because not only does he not understand what that should mean in the context it’s meant to be applied to, but also the fact that he doesn’t put too much emphasis on how he meets people. Case in point; Kathy Branden. 

Jon doesn’t remember how he met his very first friend because it seemed like the girl was just always there. His earliest memory of her was not of their first encounter as that must’ve happened long before Jon could develop any coherent memories; It was actually the moment he first heard the expression, “boy meets girl.”

Cobb Branden, a very portly man who owns the dairy farm next to the Kent’s family home who always wore a kind smile and a set of muddy overalls, made it a routine always to drop off a pack of freshly pasteurized milk. Young Jonathan was lying upside down on the woven bench on the front patio of his house when he saw the older adult make his way past the front gate of the front yard. With milk in hand and his granddaughter close behind her, Mr. Cobb waves to Jonathan as he walks into the boy’s home without knocking. 

This was entirely normal for them as Hamilton County isn’t the kind of place that burglaries would happen, and neighbors were always welcoming to their fellow man. Locked doors are the kind of thing that only the paranoid would have in such a peaceful place. A young girl with a messy braid opts to join Jonathan in his topsy turvy adventures. She sits next to the fellow three-year-old and flops backward until her neck is craned upside-down along with her friend, who has yet to acknowledge her.

“Hiya!”

“Hi Kathy!” Jon greets back with a severe frown.

There’s a moment of silence between them before the girl in the blue overalls asks, “Whatcha doing?”

Sky blue eyes scowl further as Jon sighs and sit up quickly to the point he makes himself dizzy. “Woah!” He steadies himself by holding the armrest and looks down at his best friend forlornly. “There was a cat under Ms. Ruth’s porch, and I wanted to see it!”

“There’s always gonna be a cat under that lady’s house. What’s so special about this one?” 

“I dunno.” He shrugs as he helps Kathy sit up, but his lack of muscle and leverage causes both of them to fall off the wooden furniture with a loud thud. 

“Ow…” Jon whines as he rubs the slowly forming bump on the top of his head.

“Get your fat butt off me!” The cursed child shouts from underneath her friend before flinging him off with her superior strength. He’s tossed down the three steps of his house with a loud shout gaining the attention of the three adults inside who rush out to check on them. 

“I’m not fat! You’re fat!” The little boy hollers as he points at his attacker while his mother sits him up on the dirt path.

“I’m not fat! I have a lot of muscle from working on the dairy! Maybe you should try it instead of staring at kittens all day!”

Clark Kent shakes his head at the two toddlers pointing at each other and calling their so-called friend names and steps between them. “Okay you two, let’s stop that. It’s not nice to call people mean names.”

“She started it! She pushed me off ta’ stairs!” A stern look from his father quickly hushes Jon’s whines but.

“No, I didn’t! Jon’s fat butt fell on me and I could have died!”

“You’re being drama!”

“It’s called being dramatic and no I’m not!”

“Kids-” Clark begins but is stopped by a humorously light chuckle of Farmer Cobb who stood behind his granddaughter. 

He waves off the other man’s exasperation with a leisurely smile, crinkling his grey mustache up, and says, “I’m sure they don’t really mean it. You know how it is; boy meets girl-”

“Girl threw the boy to the ground and they lived happily ever after.” Lois finishes with an equally amused chuckle. 

“Well I never heard it end like that but I guess it fits.” 

Clark rolls his eyes in a fond manner and relaxes his previously stern expression as he walks over to his son to check him for injuries. He winces when he sees the bump forming on the little boy. “Ooof, that’s gonna hurt for a while.”

The older man walks over with Kathy in tow and winces the same way. “Gee Clark I’m sorry ‘bout what Kathy did to yer boy. Ain’t that right Kathy?”

The little girl in question fiddles with the front of her denim attire with a shameful frown and mutters a soft, “Sorry I hurt ya, Jon.”

“It’s okay, I’m sorry I fell on you.” He replies as he stands up before the two of them run off to play in the grass as if nothing happened.

“Jon, wait- aaaaaaand he’s gone.” The brunette woman sighs as she gets off her knees to brush off the dirt on her jeans. “That boy, I swear he thinks he’s invincible sometimes.” 

“I’m sorry about Kathy, Lois. She can be a bit rough but I know she didn’t mean to hurt ‘im.”

Lois pats the man on the shoulder firmly telling him, “It’s fine. Jon is always falling off things and bumping that hard skull of his. I’ll worry when he doesn’t come home with an injury.”

“Are you sure about that? That bump looked pretty big.” 

Clark sighs as he adjusts his thick glasses and watches their kids run after each other in the tall grass. “We’ll probably call the doctor later tonight just to make sure, but I’m sure he’s fine.”

Jonathan never really discovered what the phrase meant as he was too young to really care about such things. All that mattered to him was playing tag with his best friend and spending his days in ignorant bliss to the truth of the world around him. The girl next door was never truly his friend. The town he spent his days in wasn't real. The happy memories he made were tainted with pain and betrayal. 

In a perfect world, the son of Superman would be able to get closure and have a conversation with the people who once encompassed his entire reality. They would all beagle to move on past their transgressions and be able to continue their warm days in the open sky of Hamilton county. There would be no worry of another betrayal because Jonathan is a trusting boy who is able to forgive everyone no matter what may come. He would be someone who could act with compassion rather than hurt.

But this is not a perfect world and Jonathan Samuel Kent, for all of the inhumanities he’s developed, is still a child in his core. He’s still an emotional seven-year-old boy who doesn’t understand the full extent of what happened to him or what is happening to him now. All he knows is that he’s hurt far worse than any stab wound he’s ever received. Looking at those grassy green eyes and brown freckles that used to elate him now burn him with hot tears and furious confusion.

“JON, PLEASE!” The girl calls out again as her feet do their best to catch up to the boys in the midst of the boisterous parade around them.

It’s rather funny to have such a scene take place when there is such a fun event going on around them. Jon doesn’t let that thought linger as he rests his chin on his friend’s shoulder and shouts, “GO AWAY!”

“I WILL IF YOU WOULD TALK TO ME!”

“I have to say, Jonathan, she sure does share your stubbornness,” Damian observes glancing behind him briefly. “It must be an alien thing.”

Oh… Jon almost forgot that Kathy is not human. “I wish I had super strength or flying. It would be a lot easier to run.”

“This is rather out of character for you.” The older boy states as he readjusts his companion in his arms. “Aren’t you always saying how you’re not a quitter and needing to talk out problems? This very situation is right up your alley.”

The child sighs as he readjusts his construction paper crown with a stiff push of his hand and rages indignantly. “I mean… I don’t always-”

“You do.” Damian interrupts, rolling his eyes at the sheer audacity of the lair before him.

“Okay, I do but that doesn’t mean I want to do it right now!” Jon groans, throwing his head back and crossing his arms. This is unfair! I need more time and her chasing after me out of nowhere is totally unfair! I don’t have time to get my thoughts together because if I talk to her now I wouldn’t be able to use my words right. I’ll forget things and start crying and say things I don’t mean and-”

“Is that it?” The leotard-clad boy immediately stops in his tracks and drops the other on the harsh concrete of the road. 

The boy in the Wonder Woman costume barely had any time to recover before he’s taken by the hand and harshly yanked backward towards their pursuer. “Dami! Dami what are you doing?! We need to be running the other way!” Jon pleads as he does his best to rip his arm out of the iron-clad grip. 

With an impatient hand on his hip, Damian holds Jonathan hostage with his other hand anticipating the arrival of the infamous Kathy Branden. She stops less than a foot in front of the assassin, not winded from their run in the slightest, and gestures to her old friend currently doing his best to meld into the floor. “Hi, sorry but can you give us a minute?”

“No.” Damian immediately answers with a stern glare only to be met with an equally venomous sneer in return. 

Freckled arms angrily cross over the pink canvas of her overalls as equally intense green eyes stare each other down in a silent battle of wills. “I’m not going to hurt him. I just want to talk with him.”

“And I’m saying you can’t.” There is another insufferable pause between the two and Jonathan can’t help but watch as the three of them are still amongst the ever-moving crowd around them. The brow above Damian’s right eye twitches slightly causing the Wayne heir to scoff hotly, and righteously pissing the blonde girl off to no end. “Really? You’re trying to read my mind?” Damian lets out an obnoxious laugh and Jon can see that Kathy is already debating the pros and cons of punching him in the face.

“Say it louder why don’t cha’?” The seven-year-old- girl growls in her throat as she clenches her fists. “Look Bat Brat, this doesn’t involve you. This is between me and Jon.”

“I agree, this is between you and Jonathan.” Damian nods not even trying to suppress his condescending smirk. “And I know you’re not going to hurt him physically. You could have done it ten times over with your skillset if that was your intention. Emotionally is another matter entirely.”

Kathy tosses one of her braids over her shoulder and examines the two boys carefully, resting her eyes on her ex-friend’s cowering form, and biting her upper lip nervously. “That's why I need to talk to him.”

“I don’t doubt that but it’s rather rude to suddenly ambush him in his new place of residence without so much as a warning.” 

“I didn’t even know he would be here! I just- My class and I were here to watch the parade and we didn’t expect Jonathan to be tossed at us over the barrier!”

Emerald green eyes blink before a tired hand runs it’s way down his face with a lengthy sigh. “Of course he did.” He circles his finger along the temple of his head in a calming manner before returning to his former compose position. “That still doesn’t give you the right to ambush him when he’s not emotionally or mentally prepared to face you. Don’t you think suddenly seeing you and your people again would hurt him? Running after him is an even worse method of reconciliation if that was your goal.”

“I didn’t… I just wanted to-”

“And therein lies the problem at hand. This isn’t about what you want as you were not the one who was hurt by your actions; Jonathan was the one affected the most and therefore he should have the say in what conditions you two may start speaking again.”

“You talk funny,” Kathy states but uncrosses her arms in defeat. “But you’re right. Jon-”

Damian holds out his hand to stop her from addressing his friend any further. “No, you’re talking to me right now. When and if Jonathan is ready to speak to you again he will. Have you changed your method of contact since you two last saw each other?”

“No.” Kathy sighs realizing that her conversation with the young Kent will have to wait.

“Then he knows how to reach you.” The older boy finishes as he lifts the smaller child up by the arm. “Now that he knows that you’re up to communication again it’s only a matter of time when he’ll be ready to speak to you about the past events. I suggest you go back to your group and act like this never happened.”

“Can I at least-”

“No, keep walking.”

With another sigh, Kathy waves a shy and silent goodbye and sulks off back from where she came from as Damian watches intently. There’s a pang of guilt in Jonathan’s chest as he watches her leave and he turns to his older friend with a miserable pout. “Don’t you think that was a bit mean? I mean… she… it wasn’t her fault-”

“Jonathan, you’re too soft and naive. If you were to talk to her right now I have no doubt in my mind you’d get angry, cry, then agree to be friends with her again without any thought. Honestly, I still have no doubt in my mind that’s what will happen, but that is exactly why we need to set boundaries and give you time to understand what you agree to.” Damian explains pulling on the boy’s ear as if that would somehow make him listen better.

It doesn’t and all it accomplishes is annoying Jon substantially. “Dami, why did you do that?”

“I just told you why. We need to set boundaries, boundaries that you are clearly unwilling to set yourself. Isn’t this something a friend should do?”

Maybe but Jon wishes that this didn’t even have to happen. “Why do you choose now to do this?”

“Oh come off it Jonathan. You’re only upset because the roles have reversed and you are now in my shoes. Now you know how it feels every time you pull a stunt like this to me.”

“Thanks, I hate it.”

“And you’ll feel better afterward.” Damian pulls Jonathan along back against the grain of the parade back to where their journey began so that they may grab their stuff and enjoy the rest of the event. “Now let’s go back and get the bag you made me drop.”

Remembering the entire point of the day Jonathan’s spirits visibly perk up and he rushes ahead until he’s the one hauling the other boy along the path. “CANDY!”

Once they get back to where Damian’s family were standing Jon is immediately greeted with a giant Hershey bar to the head. The force immediately knocks the boy over and in turn forcing Damian to the ground too. Commissioner Gordon immediately jumps over the hay barrier to check on the children as Mr. Wayne immediately begins to scold his second eldest son.

“Jason!”

“I didn’t mean to hit him! He ran into my shot!”

“Jason you just attacked Clark’s son with five pounds of chocolate to the head!”

The older man sits both Jon and Damian up on the concrete and checks them for bumps before letting out a sigh of relief. “I don’t see any bumps or bruises. Are you boys alright?”

Slowly, while looking the man in the eye, Jon grabbed the candy bar a third of his size and hugs it to his chest while whispering, “This is the greatest thing to have ever happened to me.”

Commissioner Gordon chuckles at the child’s silliness and looks to the other boy who is quickly getting off the concrete. “And what about you, Damian?”

“I’m fine.” The boy hisses in return as he readjusts his skewed blue mask. “Todd, you uncoordinated oaf! How dare you attack us!”

Teal eyes roll and he grabs another bar of chocolate from his backpack. “Then don’t get in the way of my shot. Jon’s fine and you’re just pissy you were taken down with him.”

Indeed little Jonathan was more than fine; he was freaking ecstatic at snagging a gigantic piece of candy. He has no idea how he’s going to lug the monstrosity around for the rest of the parade with his blastic blue pumpkin pail but- wait. Jon looks around his arms and the ground around him to find that his candy bucket was nowhere to be found. He sits up quickly, startling the man in the tan trenchcoat, and frantically turns his head every which way to find that he lost his previous candy haul while running from his ex-friend. 

Immediately after coming to his horrid realization the boy’s lips begin to quiver and tears slowly drip down the side of his face. His parents bought that pail for him and he went and lost it along with all his treats. He bites his lower lip to quell the sobs begging to take shape however that only makes it more obvious that he’s crying to the people around him.

“Jon, are you hurt?” Jim Gordon picks up the crying boy and moves his crown to make sure he didn’t miss an injury as Damian comes to his own conclusions about the situation.

Damian sighs and runs a hand down his face again as he grabs his bag from where he left it next to his father and walks towards Jonathan with a tired expression. “The things that get you to shed tears are utterly ridiculous.” He sternly gestures for the man to put his friend down and shoves the green bag in Jonathan’s teary face. “Here, this bag is big enough for both of us.”

“I -I still lost my bucket and- and-”

“I doubt your parents care for that cheap container. Besides, I can just buy you a new one.” The older boy groans as he restlessly waits for the other to stop crying useless tears.

“B-but that’s your bag and I don’t wanna take your cand-”

Damian interrupts him with another groan and uses the sleeve of his costume to violently rub against Jon’s face and nearly knocks Jon’s red lens off. “Jonathan, candy is here free and you are holding a literal brick of the stuff. You aren’t taking anything from me unfairly.”

“But-”

“I swear you are making this harder than it has to be. If you don’t want to owe me by taking anything then we can share it. What’s that stupid thing Grayson is always yelling at me?”

“Sharing is caring!” The aforementioned man calls out doing his best to get the scene in front of him on video. 

“Yeah, that. Will that make you feel better?” Jonathan pulls the arm off of his face and nods his head as he’s still ashamed that he lost his stuff but grateful his friend was doing his best to make him feel better. “Good, let’s go. That Wilkes boy is probably already ahead of us and I refuse to lose to him.” Damian states as he grabs the younger boy’s hand, plops the giant chocolate bar into the bag, and drags them along the parade path to get candy.

Meanwhile, Dick Grayson is on the verge of tears and clutching his phone to his chest as if it was the most important thing in the world. “He’s learning! Damian is learning and my heart can’t take it!”

“You gonna post that on Instagram too?” Jason mocks pointing at the device after he throws another candy bar into the crowd. 

The twenty-four-year-old man shakes his head side to side as he replays the video to himself. “I’m not sharing this with the rest of the world. I’m giving it to Alfred so he can add it to the family home video archive.”

Bruce shakes his head at the sight of his eldest losing composure and pats him gently on the back. “I wish he could also do the same for the family, but I’m glad that he’s getting better interacting with people; even if it’s just Jonathan for now.”

“Don’t count your blessing B. He willingly got rid of his weapons, he’s participating in school activities like a normal kid, and he didn’t try to kill Colin when they first met. I say he’s doing great!” Dick cheers putting his phone in his pocket just as Mr. Gordon makes his way over the barrier again to reconvene with them. 

“We best get a move on if we want to keep an eye on them for the rest of the parade. Didn’t you say that we’re supposed to meet up with Jon’s parents near the front?” The man asks to make sure he’s remembering things correctly.

“Of course Mister Gordon,” Alfred reassures as he brushes off the confetti from his coat. “I do believe Miss Barbara is also due to meet us there after she’s done watching over young Colin.”

“Great! Let’s get going then.” He replies as Jason tosses the last of his projectiles into the street. 

“Hey, B.” The older teenager quietly calls out as he falls back his pace to allow everyone but the two of them to get ahead. 

Bruce slows down to allow some distance while making sure that his strides and expressions still look natural to anyone watching him. “Yes, Jay-lad?”

“How long are you going to keep this up?” Jason asks as he slings his bag over his shoulder as he looks forward to where the two elementary school boys are holding their bag out for candy on the other side of the road. 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” The billionaire says calmly as he pretends to fumble with his cellphone to take a picture of his youngest son.

“You can drop it, Old Man, no one is paying attention.” The younger male glasses as he scans the area again just to make sure.

Bruce lets out a long exhale as he puts his phone in the pocket of his jacket and looks at his older son with a stern expression. “If I had a say in it I would keep it up forever. Damian doesn’t have to know.”

Jason scoffs at the answer and sneers at the other. “You really think that’s gonna work? We’ll just pretend to be a happy normal family around the Hellspawn-”

“Jason.”

“And everything will magically be okay? Like his mother hasn’t threatened for his return for the last month since she found out what happened to him? Like we haven’t been constantly fighting with the League nearly every day?”

“We’ll keep fighting every day if that’s what it takes. I would say the same thing for each and every one of you.”

“Look how well that turned out for me, B.” Jason hisses with a venomous leer. “It doesn’t matter if we keep hiding it from him. He’s going to find out eventually and it will blow up in your face all over again if you don’t talk to him about this. Don’t let him be another mistake, Bruce-”

“You were never a mistake.” The father cuts off with the same amount of force as his child. “And this is different. Damian… We need to show Damian that he can’t go back to her; how she’s not what is best for him.”

“It’s not gonna work and you know it. Stop denying it because you know just as much as the rest of us that he’s still part of them. You’ve seen his room and heard his plans. Nothing we say is going to convince him that he shouldn’t go back because he loves his mother. The only thing that will make him see reason is if she betrays him and it will be too late by then.” The man explains with an unnaturally reserved expression. “And after that, let’s say we get what we want: Damian is gonna live forever in the manor with us and become a normal functioning person who’ll get a 9 to 5 job without the bullshit the rest of this family goes through. You’re more delusional than I thought if that’s what you think is going to happen.”

“And what about you Jason? Isn’t that what you’re doing right now?”

The teen laughs coldly at the question and makes sure he’s looking directly into the blue eyes of his father for what he’s about to say. “B, don’t even try that. Do you know how many people had to die before I found out what I wanted? Even then I can’t escape this life no matter hard I try. I see trouble starting and the first thing I think is not calling the police or hide for safety like a normal civilian but, ‘where’s my mask?’ I already have the area mapped out and at least three contingency plans for when things go south. I’ll be working at school and the second some megalomaniacal asshole rears their ugly face on the news. I have no doubt I’ll be holding back every fiber of my being just not to rush in. That’s not even counting for those stupid times the world is in trouble and we all have to step up and do our part. 

“I only had less than a decade for that to become part of me. I don’t regret ever working with you but I hate what it’s done to me. Are you really going to try and stop Damian, who was practically born with a sword in his hands, from following in our footsteps? He lives and breaths fighting. He relishes in the thrill of the battlefield to the point he could probably fight forever if his body didn’t break down from it. We tried to talk him out of it but he’s going to be dragged in no matter what we do.”

“He’s just a kid Jason. He’s- I’m not going to let the cycle continue-”

“So you admit it’s a cycle.” 

“I never implied it wasn’t.” Bruce laments with a terse frown. “But I’m not going to let another one of my children become a soldier. Even if Damian becomes one of us I’ll do my best to make sure he has a healthy foundation to come back to.”

“Speaking of healthy foundations, how’s Timmy?” Jason mocks nudging the man in the ribs at the mention of the third son. “How well are you doing with that trainwreck and setting healthy foundations for him? Didn’t you once tell me he was safer with you rather than running around cities alone taking pictures of dangerous people?”

“He is?” Bruce replies mildly confused and suddenly worried where the curly-haired male was going with this line of questioning. 

“Oh really now? What’s that then?” He asks pointing to a place above Bruce’s head.

His heart drops to his stomach at the implication and he swiftly turns around to see his young teenage boy in a leather cat-suit hanging off the side of a building with a telephoto zoom lens attached to his camera. “WHAT IN THE- HE’S SUPPOSED TO BE IN SCHOOL!”

“That’s what you’re choosing to focus on? Not the BDSM nightmare he’s wearing? There is not enough bleach in the world to clean my eyes from this sight.”

Back with Jonathan and Damian, the two boys were completely innocent of the events transpiring behind them as they filled their bag with fun-sized candy. The bag is nearly filled halfway to the top when the younger of the pair notice a face that he thought he wouldn’t see ever again. He quickly trots up to the person until the only thing between them is the straw barrier. “Conner? What are you doing here?”

The teenager in question, dressed in a spooky black cloak and masquerade mask adorned in fake spider webs, jumps in shock at being recognized and nervously looks to the brunette woman in a business suit next to him. She looks at the child dressed as Wonder Woman for a brief moment before nodding silently to him. Seeing that he has permission Conner gladly smiles at the boy and ruffles his hair playfully. 

“Hey, Jon! My dad let me out with Mercy to watch my sister in the parade!” He explains as Damian catches up to Jon with the bag. 

Jon tilts his head in a confused manner asking, “You have a sister?”

“Yep! She’s in Kindergarten. You just missed her since she was in the front with all the other six-year-olds.”

“So you’re a big brother? That’s so cool! Dami has a bunch of older brothers and I’m kinda jealous. I wish I had a big brother.” The boy confesses pointing to his friend who is glaring at the other Kryptonian.

Sky blue eyes blink down at Jonathan blankly for a moment before he answers. “Yep, I’m an older brother alright.” That earns the teen a chuckle from the woman next to him but she doesn’t say anything more to contradict him.

“What are you supposed to be? I’m Wonder Woman and Dami is Nightwing!”

“Um… I don’t know. I’m just some guy in a cloak and mask I guess.”

“Why? That’s kinda boring.” Jon states with a disappointed frown.

Conner just shrugs nonchalantly at the comment then replies, “It sucks. If I could pick my costume I totally would, but my dad said I had to wear this if I wanted to go outside.”

“Does this mean you’re allowed to go outside more? We can go hang out around the city again but I have to pay for it this time because apparently last time was super expensive and I just found out I owe a lot of people a lot of money.”

“How much money?” 

“Like… If I graduate high school I’ll owe Dami’s family over a million dollars or something.”

“... Jesus Christ Jon.” The teen breaths in disbelief after hearing that amount. “You gotta stop taking loans from people.”

“I don’t try to!” The boy defends but it’s not much of a defense. 

“He’s over exaggerating. It would be about $761,475 for schooling and he still insists on owing people more making it around $762,000 at the very most as long as he doesn’t ask for more.” Damian corrects with his arms crossed.

“Yo, I can give you the money to pay them back and you can just owe me instead,” Conner suggests after hearing that large number.

“Are you trying to consolidate Jonathan’s self-inflicted debt?”

“I don’t know what that word means but I won’t ask for it back. It can be a price for being my little brother.” 

“I’d do that for free!” Jon readily admits with his hand raised for apparently no reason.

Damian pinches the bridge of his nose and shakes his head at the idiotic conversation taking place before him. “Idiots, the both of you. Neither of you understands how trade works.”

“I dunno, I think that’s a fair price for a cool little brother,” Conner says as he continues to rub Jon’s head.

“Conner, you can’t buy people.” Mercy states with an unserious tone seeing how happy her charge is with the little boy.

“And even if you could buy Jonathan he’s worth much more than a measly $762,000. If I’m worth over 4 billion then he is worth at least 5 billion based on his genetics alone.” Damian corrects with a confident smirk.

Jonathan has no idea what any of that means but he thinks that it’s a compliment based on his best friend’s body language. “Awww, thanks Dami!”

“Uuuhhh, not to be a buzzkill but why do you know that?” The teen asks in an extremely concerned voice.

“None of your business. Come along Jonathan, we must be going if we ever want to complete our mission.” Damian commands walking away from the two and expecting the other elementary schooler to follow. 

Not wanting to be left behind Jon actively sways on his feet in anticipation as he waves to Conner and the older brunette next to him. “Bye Conner, bye Miss Mercy!”

With that, he sprints off to where Damian is already holding the bag out for more candy. He hears the older male shout a quick, “See you soon!” from behind, but Jonathan doesn’t have time to really give that sentence any thought. There are more pressing issues at hand that he needs to deal with.

Candy. All of the candy.

Twenty minutes later they are almost to the end of the parade when Jon sees his father next to a slightly younger red-haired man with a fancy looking camera. “Hi Dad!” The child shouts as he launches himself off the ground and into his father’s arms. “Who’s this?”

“Heya Sport!” Clark returns as he catches his son and envelopes him in a tight hug. “This is Jimmy Olsen. You met him once when you were really young, but I guess you don’t remember it.”

“Oh, sorry.” Jon apologizes to the man for forgetting about him. “Hi Mr. Olsen! I’m Jonathan Samuel Kent but that’s a long name so you can call me Jon!”

The man laughs at the response and he shakes the child’s hand politely. “Hi Jon. You can just call me Jimmy. Sorry I didn’t visit more but someone is a really overprotective father.”

Said father shyly scratches the back of his neck. “Guilty as charged.”

“Don’t beat yourself over it Clark; you had good reason.” Jimmy consoles as he looks over the father-son duo. “Wow, he really looks like you.”

“Really?” The man questions taking a good look at his little boy. “I think he looks more like his mother. I don’t think Lois could handle it if he took after me any more than he already does.”

“True but could you handle it if he took after her more?” The photographer teases slapping the muscular man on the shoulder.

Clark thinks for a bit before doing an extremely over-exaggerated shiver in horror at the very thought. “Don’t scare me like that Jimmy! I don’t think my heart could take it.”

The two share a boisterous laugh and are quickly met with simultaneous smacks over the head by none other than Lois Lane Kent. “Glad you two are having fun.”

“Hi Mom!” Jonathan shouts as he reaches his hands out for his mother. 

She takes him from her husband’s arms and kisses him on the side of the head lovingly. “Hello, Jon! Are you and Damian having fun? How’s your costume holding up?”

“We’re fine! Dami and I got lots of candy and my costume is still in one piece but…” Jon fidgets with his fingers for a moment before confessing. “But I lost my pumpkin.”

“You lost your pumpkin? Do you remember where you last had it?” Lois asks as she looks to her husband concerned.

Clark looks to his wife equally concerned and turns back to Jon. “Do you want me to go look for it? I don’t want you missing out on any candy.”

The child shakes his head so hard he almost flings his glasses off of his face. “No thank you. Dami and I are sharing his bag, but I’m really sorry I lost it.”

“It’s fine Jon, we can just look for it later. We’re more worried about you not having a good time.” The reporter consoles as she pats her son’s back.

“I don’t know why the silly plastic pail is even a concern,” Damian says from his place next to the family from the other side of the barrier. “It’s just a cheap blue object that’s not even worth a whole dollar.”

“Maybe.” Clark shrugs as he looks at his friend’s son. “But Jon is upset about it meaning it was important to him. That’s why we’re concerned.”

Damian scoffs at the reply but doesn’t argue further as he does understand what the man is saying. “Whatever. Put Jonathan down so that we may actually get this horrid event over with.”

“Are you not having fun, Damian?” Lois asks, still holding her son up in her arms. 

Emerald green eyes roll at the silly question and jeers, “Of course I’m not. I am not some show pony to be dressed up and gawked upon by the masses nor am I some lowly beggar out to receive handouts from the palms of filthy peasants.”

Jimmy stares at the ten-year-old perplexedly then turns to his female friend with an inquisitive brow, “I know I’ve been out of school for a while but is this how kids talk these days?”

“Nope, Damian is just special; he’s one of Bruce’s kids.” The woman laughs as she puts her son down and straightens her dark purple office clothes.

“Ah, that explains it.”

“Lois, I thought you were going to meet us at the end? Did Perry give you the day off last minute?” Clark questions as he helps his son climb back over the barrier to be next to his friend.

“No, the thing at Star Labs is just on the fritz again so there’s just nothing else to report on besides the parade which you two are already working on.” She explains tiredly as she shifts her weight to one side of her body. 

“Oh yeah, speaking of that!” Jimmy pipes up cheerfully gathering everyone’s attention. “Do you all want a picture together?”

“I wanna picture!” Jon screams gleefully causing his friend to quickly plug in his own ears to save himself from the sound over the already overbearing noise of the commotion around them.

“Can you stop doing that when I’m right next to you!?” Damian scolds but his hostility is met with domineering excitement. 

“But I wanna picture!”

“Your emotional capacity is as flexible as your hypocrisy.”

Lois pats both boys on the head and adjusts her son’s red frames while kneeling down to be at an equal height to them. “We would love a picture, Jimmy.”

“Yeah, you should join us!” Clark agrees as he also gets down on his knees and puts a firm hand on Damian’s shoulder as if he was going to run away. 

“That sounds great Clark, but I should probably take a picture with just you guys first. Selfies don’t come out as nice when I can’t see what I’m shooting.” The man points out as he cleans the lens of his camera with a cloth he pulled out of his tan vest. “Okay everybody, say cheese!”

“Cheeeeeeeeeeese!” Everybody but Damian says as the picture is taken. 

The lack of a smile from the older boy doesn’t bother him as the redhead squats down with the group and holds his professional camera out with one hand. “Hey Jon, what kind of picture do you want? Something silly? How about a little spooky since it’s Halloween?”

“Let’s be scary!” Jon demands as he morphs his face in what is supposed to be a ferrous growl but ends up making him appear even more harmless than he usually does.

“You got it Jonno, one scary picture coming right up! On the count of three everyone put on your scariest faces!” He instructs looking back at everyone briefly. “One… Two… THREE!” The group, sans Damian, puts on overly exaggerated scary faces as the flash goes off and Jimmy turns the camera around so that they can all see the photo.

The second-grader frowns at the display when he notices that Damian is wearing the exact same deadpan expression in both photographs. “Dami, you’re not even trying!”

“I don’t see the point of this. I don’t even want to be seen wearing this let alone caught on film.”

“Haha, well it’s a bit late for that Damian. If I know Dick he probably took a hundred pictures of you by now.” Lois smiles as she gets up from the ground and wobbles for a few seconds. “Woah, I really need to be hitting that gym in our apartment.”

“Well there’s not any farm work keeping us in shape in Metropolis, that’s for sure.” Clark chuckles as he pretends to have the same difficulty as his wife. “Jon, Damian, at the end of the parade, before you meet up with your classmates, we’re going to try meeting up for one last group photo. We’ll be in front of the park but if you can’t find us just head back with your class and we can get it after school.”

“Got it!” Jon replies as he prepares to run off back to the parade, but is stopped by his father’s hand on his shoulder.

“Hold on a minute, Jon, I’m not done talking yet.” He says with a grin. “Now, that’s a lot of candy in your bag. Don’t go eating too much of it because we still have that shared appointment with Dianah tomorrow. That goes for you too Damian.”

“You don’t have to worry about that. I wouldn’t soil my body with this… junk.” Damian remarks arrogantly causing the man to sigh tiredly while keeping a pleasant expression for his son.

“That’s why it’s called junk food Dami! Duh!” Jon points out as he escapes his father’s grip. “And I won’t! Anything else, Dad?”

“Nope, just have fun and we’ll see you two soon! Now run along before they run out of candy.”

“We will!” Jon says as he pulls his friend onward so that they can top off their bag of sweets. 

Things were great for the rest of the parade. There were lots of things Jonathan had to keep track of for the future such as how he should confront Kathy, what Conner meant when he said that he’d see Jonathan soon, the joint therapy session, and how the heck he was going to divide him and Damian’s Halloween haul. Even so, that could wait till later as right now they could just enjoy the moment. 

“Dami, I know you don’t really like this kinda thing but I’m glad that you’re doing it,” Jon announces as he holds one side of the overstuffed bag while his friend holds the other. They both wordlessly agree that they have enough candy for both of them and are just walking to the finish line at their own pace. 

“It’s nothing. Besides, I might as well prepare myself for further humiliation seeing as Thanksgiving and Christmas are the next holidays this country blows out of proportion.” Damian answers with a leisurely tone holding the majority of the candy weight from his side. 

“Do you not celebrate Christmas? I mean I get Thanksgiving because that’s only celebrated here but everywhere has Christmas!” Jon squawks indignantly at the notion that not only has Damian never celebrated Halloween before but Christmas! CHRISTMAS!

“That statement is false and my island doesn’t have any holidays.”

“Dami, that’s terrible! No wonder you’re so bad at pictures; you’ve never had to take a Christmas card picture!” The boy huffs readjusting his struggling grip. 

“What’s a Christmas card?”

“It’s a card that you take with your entire family and send it to everyone you know to wish them a merry Christmas.”

The older boy mocks the idea and expresses as such, “Seems a bit narcissistic and negligent, don’t you think?”

“I don’t know what those words mean but I don’t think it is,” Jon answers as he looks at his shoes in thought right before perking up with a huge grin. “I know, we’re going to take a picture with everyone, right? You can practice your smile there.”

“My smile is perfect.” Damian grits through his teeth at the offense.

“You have a great smile Dami!” The younger readily agrees. “But I don’t think I have a picture of you smiling. Actually, now that I think about it, I don’t have a picture of you at all! I didn’t even take one with my camera at the picnic!”

“That’s your loss.” 

“It’s not my loss because I’m going to get one! You know what, I have a better idea! For Christmas I want a picture of you smiling instead of a toy!” Jon declares proudly much to his friend’s confusion.

He looks at Jonathan’s victorious expression, what Jon thinks he’s won is still unclear to him, and lets out a snort due to failing to contain his laughter. “Do you think you could afford a picture such as that? I’m worth billions.”

“It doesn’t matter.” Jon huffs turning his nose up at the taller child. “Gifts are free and you can’t owe people on a gift!” 

“I’ll keep that in mind.” He replies but doesn’t appear to put any effort into the thought. 

Ba-bump Ba-bump Ba-bump Ba-bump Ba-bump

“You should at least try smiling for the group photo! It’ll help you not be so camera shy.”

“I am certainly not camera shy! If anything I am highly photogenic!” Damian corrects with a stern huff.

“Does that mean you’re afraid of having your photo taken? Is the oh-so-great, terrific, wonderful, perfect, absolutely godly Damian Wayne afraid of smiling in front of the camera?” Jon teases swinging his body to the side to nudge the bad against the other’s leg. 

Ba-bump Ba-bump Ba-bump Ba-bump Ba-bump

“You’re doing it on purpose and I hate you for it.”

“Happy to hear it, Dami!” Jon laughs as he sees the park clearing the schools are using to hold all the parade floats. “There it is! Now we gotta find our group!”

“It shouldn’t be too hard, Wilkes has bright red hair so if we miss him then we need to get our eyes checked.” 

“You’re teasing him! That must be Dami speak for, ‘he’s tolerable.’”

Ba-bump Ba-bump Ba-bump Ba-bump Ba-bump

“It is not!” Damian argues defiantly shoving Jon lightly with his free hand as the child laughs at his reaction. “It’s not! It took me weeks to even stand you! I’m not going to tolerate some street rat in a handful of hours!” 

“I don’t know about that Dami.” Jon smiles shoving him back in retaliation. “Colin is pretty cool! It only took me an hour to like him.”

“You say that like you don’t become overly attached to people with-in a minute of knowing them.” The boy mocks with a condescending smirk. “I bet you decided to be his friend the second you met him like the naive fool you are.” 

“You’re right. It only took me, like, an entire second.” He admits, not even trying to bother bickering with him. 

Ba-bump Ba-bump Ba-bump Ba-bump Ba-bump

Damian rolls his eyes again with a huff. “Jonathan, your tendency for the ridiculous never ceases to amaze me.”

“At least I’m amazing you. You kind of stopped amazing me after the first week of meeting you.”

“Oh, I know that’s a lie.”

Jon chuckles at seeing the scowling expression Damian is giving him and chooses to taunt him some more. “Is it Dami, or are you just really boring?” 

Ba-bump Ba-bump Ba-bump Ba-bump Ba-bump

“Well if that’s the case I can think of one thing to surprise you.” He says, instantly gaining Jonathan’s interest. He puts his left hand behind his back and smiles wider in the other’s direction. “Close your eyes for a second.”

“Oh come on Dami!” Jon whines trying to take a peek at whatever Damian is hiding to no avail. “You can’t do this to me! Now I’m going to be expecting something cool-”

“Well, it’s definitely something I know you’ve been waiting for. Just close your eyes!” He demands with an impatient groan. 

Excitedly Jonathan closes his eyes and covers them with his free hand and anticipates when Damian tells him to open them. “Fine! … Are you ready?”

“Hold on, the blasted thing is stuck in my pocket,” Damian replies it sounds as though he’s struggling with whatever he was getting. 

Ba-bump Ba-bump Ba-bump Ba-bump Ba-bump

  
  
  


“How about now?”

  
  
  
  


“Oh my god, Jonathan it hasn’t even been five seconds!” 

  
  
  
  
  
  


Ba-bump Ba-bump Ba-bump Ba-bump Ba-bump

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


“Now?”

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


Ba-bump Ba-bump Ba-bump Ba-bump Ba-bump

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


“Almost.”

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


Ba-bump Ba-bump Ba-bump Ba-bump Ba-bump

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


“NOW?!”

  
  


  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


Ba-bump Ba-bump Ba-bump Ba-bump Ba-bump

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


“Jonathan I swear to all that is good and holy I will smack you-”

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


Ba-bump Ba-bump Ba-bump Ba-bump Ba-bump

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


“Dami, did you let go of the bag? I felt it fall.”

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


Ba-bump Ba-bump Ba-bump Ba-bump Ba-bump

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


“Dami? Dami this isn’t funny. Are you giving me the silent treatment cause I kept asking? I’ll stop.”

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


Ba-bump Ba-bump Ba-bump Ba-bump Ba-bump

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


“Dami?”

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


Ba-bump Ba-bump Ba-bump-

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


And then there was silence.

Immediately at the lack of Damian’s heartbeat Jonathan opens his eyes and drops his end of the bad to find that his friend was gone. His own heartbeat quickens immensely as he rapidly swerves his body every which way to make sure that this had to be some joke. Damian was right next to him moments ago. There was no way that he could have just disappeared. When he looks back to the ground where his best friend once stood the only indication that there was ever someone with Jon was a small plushie. 

Robotically Jon picks it up and runs his fingers over it, yet it feels like there is no feeling in his hand. There is no warmth in his skin. There is no blood running through his veins. There is no light in his eyes. All that is left is a hollow space in his chest where Damian Wayne once stood as Jon clutches a Robin plushie to his chest. It was something Damian promised to give him a time that feels like it was forever ago. 

Without even a breath, Jon reaches into his jean pocket for his signal button and presses it. He doesn’t care that there are hundreds of people watching him or that he’s not even the one in trouble. All he wants is Damian back.

The next few seconds are a blur as he finds himself on a secluded building top with his Aunt Lana and cousin Kara. They’re asking him so many questions but Jon doesn’t answer any of them as he looks at them with his dead eyes and just says,

“Damian is gone.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I come back to you and all I bring back is pain. 
> 
> In other news, this WAS supposed to be the Kathy chapter but then I realize that it would fit later in the story and I had to move some events around. Honestly my google Doc I use to plan this fic is thoroughly abused. I change things around and scream at it constantly. So instead of the Kathy chapter, all you get is SUFFERING. 
> 
> I haven't written in a while and it shows. It really does. But I wanted to get this chapter out so as always my editing will come at random times past 2 am. I'm getting back into the groove of things and will hopefully come out with the next chapter a whole lot quicker than I did for this one! Thank you all for reading and please leave a comment if you can!


	25. The "Talk" Part II: Electric Boogaloo

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Damian isn't in Jonathan's life for what feels like the first time ever, and Jon isn't taking it well. Jon doesn't feel up for anything right now but things change and talk need to be had. Hopefully, this talk will go better than the last one he had.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You thought you had to wait weeks for another update, but no! It was me! DIO!
> 
> But seriously I felt so bad for not updating for so long I made sure to have another chapter ready to that we can have two back to back chapters! This was already halfway done by the time the last one was finished so here you go! Have fun and I hope you enjoy it! I loved reading all your comments again after so long and I'll thank the gods every day that people are liking this!

There are times Jonathan Samuel Kent wonders what life would be like if he never met Damian Wayne. What if his father decided never to reveal that he was Superman? What if he went to the Wayne manor that fateful day and Damian wasn’t there? What if his father never even took him to meet Batman? Jon doesn’t like to spend too much time thinking about what could’ve been because it wouldn’t matter. The life he’s living is the only one he has, so Jon just has to keep moving forward with what he’s got.

That doesn’t mean he doesn’t think about how differently his life would be if things were just a bit different. He thinks about a world where he continued to live in ignorant bliss in Hamilton County. He thinks about going to the Wayne manor to see Damian’s room empty and unlived in like it was normal. He thinks about having no powers and getting hurt like an average person because he never had them kick in. 

Life truly began for Jonathan when he met Damian Wayne. He doesn’t know why he feels that way because he’s lived most of his life without feeling something was missing. Jon wasn’t yearning to have someone else in his life. All the seven-year-old farm boy wanted was to be a good person and have fun. Meeting the son of Batman, in all honesty, made Jonathan a worse person overall. He’s even willing to admit meeting the young assassin is the worst thing that has ever happened to him thus far. Sure there were comparatively worse things to have happened to the boy, but Damian Wayne is usually the catalyst for getting him into those situations the majority of the time.

Even so, Jon wouldn’t have it any other way if it meant the two of them could be together and face the upcoming trials together. Unfortunately, they can’t do that because his best friend is gone. He’s not just gone from his line of sight but completely and utterly gone from existence. Jonathan has been doing his best for the past week to find Damian’s heartbeat, but all he got was silence. No matter how far the older boy was Jon was sure he would be able to locate him using the sound of his heartbeat, but there was nothing.

Heartbeats do not all sound the same contrary to popular belief. Maybe it does to human ears, but Jon is not human. Damian’s pulse is angry and fierce while at the same time, methodic and soft. It is as though each beat was doing it’s best not to be heard while also screaming at anything that would dare try to listen to it. Jonathan loves that sound more than anything he’s ever heard before or since. He would fall asleep listening to it and wake up to it every day since he discovered he could listen to the beat.

Jonathan was never a fan of silence, though, at this very moment, he hates it more than anything else in the world. Jon’s list of things he hates used to be very short if not nonexistent all together, but since having Damian introduced in his life, that list has gotten significantly larger. The second-grader remembers his vision and how broken he felt when Damian died. How his entire world shattered at that notion and how things would never be the same. He’s jealous of that other Jonathan in his mind who got to spend so much more time with his Damian. How come that Jon supposedly got years with his best friend while he only had months?

“Jon, are you sure you want to go today?” Clark Kent asks his son, who is already out in the hall with his stuff. 

The child in question just stares blankly at his father with hollow eyes and continues to make his way to the elevator without waiting for the man. He hears his parents whispering to each other and if Jonathan wanted to, he could tune in to know what it was. Sadly he doesn’t have the energy nor the desire to do so.

Both of his parents join him in the lift as it travels down to the parking garage, where the family gets in their pick-up truck and quietly drives off to their destination. It was around several of the most excruciating painful hours of Jonathan’s life, and he is absolutely counting the time he had his legs cut off and bit off his own arm! He would absolutely anticipate the drive to the Wayne manor because that meant he would be able to spend time with Dami.

Their current objective is not as pleasant because there he wouldn’t be there to greet them. In all honesty, Jon doesn’t really know why they were bothering to visit the place anymore. It’s going to be depressing being somewhere that reminds him of Damian seeing as he’s probably dead and gone forever. The child always believed that if he were ever faced with this scenario, he would be the one to adamantly believe that his best friend was alive against all the odds. Having to emotionally go through the loss of his friend twice (even though one time was only in his head) is taxing. The young Kryptonian doesn’t think that he could go through this a third time if Damian ended up being alive. 

As they pull up to the now-familiar winding driveway of the Wayne manor the friendly face of the family butler greets them at the front. Clark parks the car and gets out to unbuckle Jonathan from his booster seat before lifting him out while acting like he doesn’t have superstrength. “Hrrrrrrrrrrrgggggggnnnnn! Whew, it looks like someone is growing fast. Soon enough, you won’t even need a booster seat, Sport!” The man says cheerfully as he puts his son on the asphalt. 

Jon’s apathetic expression doesn’t change, nor does the child bother to respond verbally. He instead chooses to completely ignore the Man of Steel as the child reaches into the floor of the backseat to grab his backpack then walks to the front entrance of the mansion. He doesn’t even say hello to Alfred as he rudely walks inside, pushing both of the massive double doors open with little effort, and immediately plopping face down on the intricate Persian entryway rug.

He lies there for about two minutes until Mr. Wayne himself comes across the small child lying at his door. “Um… Hello Jonathan.” The man approaches hesitantly, kneeling to make sure the boy was alright. 

“Hiiph miffer wawnnn.” Jon replies with his face still smooshed in the tapestry. 

“Be blessed, Bruce; those are the first words he said all day.” Jonathan’s mother sighs as she walks up the short stone steps behind him.

“I’m honored?” He replies as he tries to sit the child up. “How has Jon been holding up at school?”

Lois assists in standing her son up and answers, “His teacher says Jon hasn’t been participating and closed himself off from most of his friends. I don’t think she’s going to buy the cover story for much longer.”

“It’s technically true.” Bruce sighs deeply as the pair get up off the floor. “His mother does currently have custody of him right now.”

“Bruce-”

“We shouldn’t be speaking about this here in front of your son.”

“Why?” Jon interrupts, staring up at the tall man with his empty eyes. “It wouldn’t matter where you were because I can hear you.”

The two adults look at him in a way Jonathan can’t quite comprehend the meaning of, but they don’t seem to be disturbed as adults usually do when he says stuff like that. His father and Alfred join the other two adults in the room where the four of them escort Jon to a sitting room in an area of the manor he’s never visited before. He notes that there are no vents or openable window panes that can be easily accessed with his stature as he’s maneuvered onto a pure white velvet couch. Jon is pretty sure that sitting rooms are supposed to be cozier tiny versions of living rooms, but everything looks so… ruinable that it just puts him on edge. 

“Young master Jonathan,” Alfred addresses politely, causing the addressed boy to become confused because the second-grader is definitely sure that he’s not a master of any kind. “Please stay in this room with your mother for a few moments while your father and Master Bruce attend to important matters.” 

“Like what?” Jon asks tiredly, not really caring for the answer. 

“We’ll tell you in a couple of minutes when we come back, okay?” Clark promises, watching his son closely and sighing when Jon simply nods before turning around in his seat in return.

The brunette woman sat next to her son on the sofa and patiently for the other three people’s return. Keeping to their word, the men came back with a handful of minutes, but they didn’t come back alone. First through the door was Timothy Drake-Wayne, who looked as confused as Jonathan felt (or would have felt if everything wasn’t so numb). The young teenager appears to have just gotten out of bed seeing that his head was unkempt, and he was currently adorned in red silk button-up pajamas. Mr. Wayne sat his son down next to Jonathan then moved to sit on the adjacent seating across the mahogany coffee table in front of them. Jon’s dad walks in next along with a lightly tanned man who appears to be in his early to mid-twenties with brown hair and eyes wearing thick glasses, a simple white shirt and jeans behind him. 

The second the stranger enters the room he openly gawks at Jonathan’s appearance for a moment before shifting his expression to something more neutral. He sits on the red armchair near the wall away from the rest of the group as everyone else sits on the other couch. The elderly butler is the last to enter the room as he closes the door behind him and sits next to the billionaire on the sofa.

Clark Kent takes off his thick-rimmed glasses before leaning forward with his strong hands folded over his knees with a sober expression on his face. He stares at Jon in a way that makes the boy feel like he’s done something bad like biting a baseball through the side of the barn. Jon nervously clutches the front of his Superman shirt as he begins to go through anything he could have done to deserve such a reaction, but his father quickly goes back to a more gentle face at seeing his son’s response. 

Meanwhile, Tim is being stared down by his own father in a similar manner, but the teen doesn’t react the same way opting to slouch in his seat. It’s clear that the boy is still tired and needs more rest even though it is well past noon. Royal blue eyes bemusedly glare at the stranger sitting silently in the back of the room but attempt to not pay him too much attention. “B, first, you want me to get as much rest as possible and now you’re telling me to wake up early.”

“Tim, it’s three in the afternoon.” Bruce sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“... Oh.” Tim replies with a confused blink as he looks at the gold Rolex watch on his wrist. “This stupid thing is broken.”

Ignoring the comment, the billionaire sits up straight with a deep inhale while Alfred sets down teacups in front of everyone but Jonathan, who gets a plastic cup of apple juice. After everyone has a drink, Mr. Wayne begins to speak to the two children before him. “Jon, how are you feeling?”

“How do you think?” Jon spits back with more venom than he ever intended to use. Immediately the child checks himself and apologies for his behavior. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean-”

Mr. Wayne holds out his hand to stop him. “No, it’s fine, Jon. Things are stressful for everyone right now, and that includes you too. You’re entitled to feel the way you do right now.”

“It’s still not a nice thing to say.” He mumbles, tucking his knees to his chest. “I don’t feel very good; I still can’t hear Dami. Everyone keeps telling me he’s fine, but if I can’t hear him, that must mean he’s either dead or really far away.”

Jon feels his mother rub his back comfortingly, but he doesn’t reciprocate the action. Next to him, Tim grimaces at the adults around him as he becomes more aware of his surroundings. “What is this?”

“Tim, this isn’t anything to be worried about; All we want to do is talk.” Jon’s father calmly tells him, taking a sip of his tea. 

“A talk or an interrogation?” He furiously accuses as he pulls Jonathan closer to him. “You’re going to pull this on us now? How about you do this when you don’t have an emotional wreck of a seven-year-old and bring Damian back! It’s not like we don’t know where he is-”

“Tim,” Bruce calls out sternly, causing his son to shut up immediately.

“Look, we know that this isn’t a good time for this. If we could hold this conversation off, then we would, but the situation has changed to a point where we can’t hold off any longer.” Clark explains peacefully, putting his cup down. 

“You could just ask me. You didn’t have to bring Jon into this.” Tim argues, his tone not lightening up in the slightest.

“That would be fine if he weren’t involved-” Mr. Wayne begins to explain but is interrupted by his son.

“He’s seven!”

“And you’re fifteen, but here we are.” 

“Boy, we are here to have a conversation, not to squabble,” Alfred states firmly, causing the two Waynes to deflate their steadily rising tempers. 

During their momentary silence, Jonathan chooses this time to ask about the metaphorical elephant and the literal stranger in the room. “Dad, who is that man?”

Clark turns to look at the man, and the stranger curtly shakes his head side to side. “Um… He’ll introduce himself later.”

Timothy was clearly unsatisfied with the answer, but he doesn’t argue about it. “Fine, but can we set up some boundaries about how this will go?” 

“Of course,” Bruce readily answers, and Jon is really tired of someone not just freaking saying why he’s here. The boy feels as though he is the only person in the room ignorant of the situation.

“Uuuhhh-”

Noticing Jonathan’s confusion Lois leans down to explain everything to her son. “Jon, remember what I told you this morning? We’re here to talk about your blackouts.”

Jon definitely doesn’t remember having that conversation, but he doesn’t remember paying attention to anything that happened either. He was kind of on autopilot for the majority of the morning. “Oh.”

“If there is something you don’t want us to do or talk about then just say so, okay?”

“Okay mom.” Jon replies as he unfurls his legs and lets them dangle off the couch. 

“That goes for you too.” Lois points out, looking at the male holding her son.

“This is going to be a very short conversation then.” The teen scoffs staring straight ahead of him. 

“We encourage you to tell us everything, but we understand if you’re uncomfortable about doing so. This entire situation isn’t who we wanted this to go down.” Bruce Wayne explains as his tone shifts away from the kind man Jonathan is used to and becomes the hero he recognizes.

That’s when he understands the gravity of the situation and he entangles one hand on the back of Tim’s silk button-up shirt. The men in front of him were not their fathers; they were Batman and Superman. This wasn’t going to be a normal conversation, but a full-on interrogation in the guise of a familial talk. Sky blues eyes look up at the older boy, but the other doesn’t move his eyes from the scene in front of him. 

“Fine, but you have to give us some time to discuss the situation together.”

Batman, not Bruce Wayne anymore, bores his eyes into his son with a judgemental stare. “So you can get your story straight?”

“Of course,” Tim replies confidently and unashamed. “This is a  _ conversation _ , right? You wouldn’t want to put two kids on the spot like criminals, would you?”

The man opens his mouth to object but Superman puts his hand up to stop it before it could be said out in the open. “That’s fine, but I suggest that you not try to lie to us when you come back.” He taps his ear three times to prove a point and Tim nods in approval.

“We wouldn’t lie to a lie detector.” The teen huffs, staring the man down. “We also want privacy during our conversation. The walls in the house are thin.”

Superman nods in agreement. “You have my word that I won’t use my super-hearing to eavesdrop on you and Jon.”

“That’s great, but I need everyone in the room to give me their word.”

The adults in the room look at each other perplexed when the man in the back pipes up and speaks for the first time since entering. “You have all of our words that we won’t eavesdrop on you two.” 

“Good.” Tim stands up with Jonathan in his arms and goes to leave the room when Alfred steps between them and the door. 

“Not so fast Master Timothy.” The British remarks as he opens the door for them. “I will escort you to a location best suitable for your private conversation. We wouldn’t want anyone to not be accounted for when the moment comes.” 

Enraged, Tim looks back at his adoptive father with a glare to almost rival Batman’s. “You already planned this.”

“Tim, you would do the same in my position.” The man simply answers. 

The teenager doesn’t deny it as he’s ushered to a room in the different wind of the manor that also doesn’t have any easily accessible windows or air vents they could possibly escape out of. Once inside Alfred closes the door leaving the two alone in the guest bedroom Jon has never seen before. It was as fancy and boring as all the other plentiful rooms in the mansion. Jon is beginning to think that giant houses aren’t worth having if most of the rooms are going to be the same.

Before the child’s mind could go off-topic even further, Tim swiftly takes Jonathan’s backpack off of his person and throws it open so that he can toss all of its contents to the floor. Jon doesn’t bother to struggle against the defilement of his bag and stares at the teen’s actions. Tim hands the child his Robin plush after inspecting it thoroughly before maneuvering Jonathan around to examine him. Once he’s thoroughly patted down Tim exhales through his nose and begins putting everything back in Jon’s leashed backpack. 

“How far is Alfred from the door?” He asks Jon quietly.

“Um… I dunno.” Jon answers with a quirked brow. 

“Use your hearing and find out.” Tim orders with an authority the seven-year-old has never heard from him before. “Didn’t your dad teach you how to control it?”

“Not really.” The child replies with a shrug. “He just taught me how to turn it off. I mean I can hear things louder than I can normally hear them but I only ever used it to listen for Damian’s heartbeat. I had to learn how to do that myself.”

That gives the male pause as he looks up at Jon from his place on the floor almost appalled by his response. “You mean he hasn’t taught you how to control any of your powers?”

“Mom and Dad say that I don’t need to learn because I’m not going to use them for anything,” Jon explains blankly while looking down at the teen who is doing a poor job at packing his things. 

Tim sighs exasperatedly and stands up only to go to bed to face the plant on the soft mattress. “AAAAARRRRRRRGGGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHHHHH!” The male groans into the pillow loudly. 

Jon feels that on a spiritual level and moves to the bed next to him to do the same. “AAAAARRRRRRRRGGGGGGGGHHH!”

The two boys stay like that for a couple more seconds before Tim shoots up to a sitting position and grasps Jonathan’s head between the palms of his hands. “Okay Jon, listen up. We’re going to go in there and lie our butts off! Do you understand?”

“No?” Jon answers between his squished cheeks. “I don’t get it. Wouldn’t it be better to just tell them everything?”

“It would not be better because then those guys are going to ruin all my plans!” He tells Jon through gritted teeth. 

The boy blinks at the distressed teen several times then asks, “And what are those plans?”

“I’ll explain it when I come up with one. Honestly, I’ve just been kinda making it up as I go.” He admits releasing Jon’s face. “But if we explain everything then there is a good chance that I won’t be able to go out as often as Robin and become a liability! Liabilities don’t get access to security systems or go out on important missions, Jon.”

“Is this about you taking all those pictures of Conner?” 

“Don’t bring this back to me!”

“But we’re talking about you.” Jon points out with a confused expression. “Plus I don’t wanna do anything. This seems like adult stuff and I don’t feel like giving myself more work.”

“Don’t you want to find Damian?” Tim presses with a serious expression.

The boy in the Superman shirt flops onto his back with a groan and stares at the crown molding of the ceiling. “Of course I do, but I can’t hear him.”

Tim frowns at Jon for a moment then gives a dejected sigh as he joins the other back down on the bed. “You’re right, Buddy. Dami clearly-”

“That’s my name for him.”

“Damian clearly doesn’t want you to find him. Why else would he do what he did?” Tim exhales in a dramatic fashion to goad Jonathan into asking for more information. 

It works like a charm. “What do you mean?” 

“I mean, maybe the little brat just happened to tell you to close your  _ eyes _ at the exact moment he got kidnapped. Maybe he just so happened to do it at a point you two were not around any of your parents who were keeping an eye on the both of you during the parade. And it must be a complete coincidence that Damian’s heartbeat, something he always knows you’re listening to, stopped after he was out of your range of vision.” Tim lists off, counting each supposed coincidence on his fingers, doing his best not to look at the child next to him.

The gears begin to turn in Jonathan’s head as the realization slowly dawns on him, but it’s still too vague for the child to put together completely. Jonathan is not stupid by any means but he’s no detective either. Seeing his struggle, Tim decides to lay the final nail in the coffin and plucks the doll from the boy’s small pale hands and scrutinizes it. It’s obviously not a doll of Tim’s Robin attire but one of Damian’s before it got destroyed.

“At least he made sure to give you something to remember him by. What a good friend Damian is for thinking of you and giving you a replacement.”

Oh.

Jon’s eyes go wide as he slowly sits up from the bed with his fingers tightly clutching the comforter beneath him. His empty blank eyes begin to fill with life again as the words settle in his brain and the puzzle is finally put together. He turns to Tim, who is now smugly holding the plushie out to him, and Jon takes it in his soft hand as he stares at its masked face. 

His expression is unreadable as he caresses the doll before Jon winds his arm back and violently chucks the object against the wall ahead of him. The Robin doll makes an unsatisfying thump against the surface, causing the child’s irritation to become even more visibly enraged as his eyes begin to glow red with complete unadulterated rage. 

“I’LL KILL HIM!” Jon hollers as he leaps off the bed to stomp on the toy with his dirty shoe. “I’m going to wring that jerk face’s stupid neck and smack him into last week, so I can do it again and stop him from hurting me like this! THAT FREAKING PROMISE BREAKER!”

“But Jon,” Tim gasps in a fake worried voice. “How are you going to even get to him? Shouldn’t we let the adults handle it? It seems like a lot of work, and they’ll probably get Damian back to us safe and sound eventually.”

“I WANT TO GET HIM BACK NOW!” Jon growls, glaring his red eyes back at the teenager. “If anyone is going to get Damian back, it’s going to be me. I want to drag him back to Gotham myself by the ear so he can hear exactly what I’m going to do to him before locking him in his room forever! He’s not going to pull this crap again if I have any say in it!”

“That’s what I like to hear! Dubious morals and unfiltered spite for the win! ” Tim cheers and goes to high-five the young boy who reciprocates the action unconsciously. “I’ll help you do it if we get through this conversation successfully. Now, if we’re going to do this, then we can’t show all of our cards. Even though these visions are of what is most likely a completely different world or timeline, the information they provide us is still relevant to our current reality.”

“Uuuuuuuuhhhh-”

“Some facts that we see when we blackout are real—for example, the milk in Hamilton. You only knew it was contaminated because you had a vision telling you it was. If not for that then no one would be the wiser until it was too late.” Timothy elaborates, poking at Jonathan’s stomach and causing the boy to giggle at the sensation.

“That’s true…” Jon mutters, thinking about how he only told time about it after he had that dream in the car. “So then what should we say? Dad will know if we’re lying and I don’t want to get in trouble for lying.”

Confidently, the young vigilante stands up tall with his hands on his hips and a smile on his face. “That is why we’re not going to lie. You need to learn to speak in half-truths. Half-truths are sentences that are true without revealing the entire truth.” Tim squats down to Jon’s level and rubs the boy’s eyes to get rid of the scarlet glow. “I’ll put it into words easier to understand. Let’s say I had fruit for breakfast and a cookie for dessert. If Alfred knew I ate a cookie he would get upset with me. So when he asks me what I ate for breakfast I tell him I had fruit, which is true but not the whole truth. Understand?”

“That just sounds like lying with extra steps.”

“It is.” Tim laments with a deep breath. Once he feels his thumbs stop searing from the hear behind Jonathan’s eyelids he stops rubbing them and is pleased to find Jon’s eyes go back to their typical lively sky blue. “Looks like someone got heat vision.”

“I did?” Jon gasps, patting his face rapidly. “Does that mean I can shoot cool lasers out of my eyes!?”

“Not quite. It just means that if you stare at things long enough they’ll start to burn.” The teenager explains much to Jon’s disappointment. “Don’t worry. I’ll teach you how to control it and make it laser vision.”

“You know how to control my power?” 

“No, but I did it in a vision once so it can’t be that hard.” Tim shrugs as he sits back down on the queen size mattress. 

Jon quickly tottles over and climbs up to join him with an excited expression. “That’s so cool! Your visions must be really cool compared to mine.”

“That’s something else we need to talk about.” He states as he helps Jon onto the bed. “How good are you and remembering your visions? Last time we talked about it you only just began retaining your memories of them.”

“I remember them a lot better now!” The child proudly reveals, bouncing on the mattresses in glee. “I mean, I don’t remember everything all the time but I remember them like actual dreams. Like how when I go to bed and have a really cool dream and wake up I remember most of it but then I start to forget most of it by the time I have to go to school unless it’s a nightmare. I always remember nightmares for some reason and it’s unfair because I want to remember good dreams as much as I remember bad dreams.”

“So you remember visions that make you feel bad more than those that don’t?” Tim asks thoughtfully. 

“I guess but most of my visions are bad. Some are worse than others and I remember the really bad ones well.”

“Mmmmm… Half-truths are probably not the way to go if that’s the case. Okay Jon, here is what I’m going to do for you.” Tim announces in a light tone. “I’m going to have one of my feet on yours.” He emphasizes his point by kicking up one of his shark-themed slippers in the air. “And when you feel me press really hard on your foot you don’t answer. No matter what they ask you or say you do not answer until you feel me let your foot free.”

“I can do that!” Jon nods with a grin. “That’s much easier than the other thing.”

“Yep! It’s great. Now let’s go talk to our parents.” Tim declares standing off of the bed and heading to the door.

“Wait! Are we not going to talk more about the visions? What about the random guy in the room?” Jon asks as he grabs the back of the older boy’s shirt to follow him. 

“We’re already going to do that so it’s best if we keep our reactions genuine because it makes everything more believable, and I have no idea who that guy is. My best deduction is that he’s an acquaintance of our parents we’ve never met who might have some power that will help them interrogate us.” 

With that said, Tim opens the door to find Alfred standing several doors down the hall out of hearing distance. By the looks of the carpet indents, the man doesn’t appear to have moved from that sport for a while meaning that he kept his end of the bargain about not listening in on them. Once He sees that the two young boys are looking at him he walks over to the two with a smile.

“I see that you two are done. I do say that I was quite startled by Young Master Jonathan’s shouting earlier.” He describes and Jon blushes red in embarrassment. “I had no intention of listening but he was extremely loud.”

“Yeah, we were talking about Damian and they apparently have some unresolved issues.” Tim brushes off quickly going back into the room and picking up the doll from the floor to give back to Jonathan. 

“I hope that he doesn’t make good on his threat.” Alfred chuckles smiling down at the second-grader. “Follow me back to the room and we shall finally get this long-awaited conversation started.”

The three of them head back to the sitting room and whatever conversation the four adults in the room were having was quickly snuffed out when Tim and Jon entered the room. The seating arrangements have changed a bit with Jonathan’s mother now sitting in an armchair next to the couch he and Tim were guided to and Alfred, after refilling everyone’s cups, is now entirely out of the room. Other than those changes everything was the same as before, but it feels as though the room is divided in such a way that makes Jon feel separated from his parents.

Seeing Jonathan’s hesitance Timothy moves the child to sit in the space between his legs and cages him from behind with his arms in a protective manner. He makes sure to rest one foot atop of Jonathan’s as he stares forward with an anticipating eloquence. Jon subconsciously holds onto both of the older boy’s upper arms like they were the bars of a rollercoaster. 

“I see the two of you are ready,” Batman announces staring at the two boys with an unreadable expression. 

“Bruce, there’s no need to be so serious with them.” Superman sighs but his own aura dictate that he was just as serious as the other man, just without the permanent scowl. “Now, remember that you don’t have to answer anything if you don’t want to, but we encourage that you share as much as you can. If at any time you would like us to skip over a question just say so and we’ll do it without question.”

“Understood.” Tim agrees and Jon nods his head to voice the same. 

“Okay, let’s get started.” The Kryptonian announces with a warm smile as he leans forward to look at the duo. “When did these blackouts start?”

Jon doesn’t feel any pressure on his foot so he decided that it must be safe to answer. “I think it started when I met Dami. After I crashed through the air vent I remember blacking out for a few seconds but I don’t remember what I saw.” 

Tim waits several seconds after Jonathan’s answer to say his own. “Mine started shortly after I met Jon for the first time. I also don’t have much of a recollection of what I witnessed.”

“I see.” Batman examines their body language before moving on. “Can you tell me what you do remember? What’s the first vision you retained memories of.”

There’s still no pressure on Jonathan’s foot meaning that it’s still okay for him to speak. The memory isn’t nice but Jonathan does his best to push through it as he reluctantly describes the ordeal. “It was right before the family picnic. I dreamt that I was going to bed but Dad woke me up and started packing my things. Mom was shooting at something outside with the family shotgun and screaming about how the whole town was after us. Next thing I knew, we were in Dad’s arms and he was flying us away to Gotham as the Justice League landed in Hamilton.”

Clark sits up at this and looks at his wife who is wearing a similarly concerned expression before they both look back to Jon. “What do you mean by that Jon?” His mother asks.

“They used a ship; I think it’s called the Javelin.” The boy elaborates solemnly. “Kara met up with us and we went to the Batcave where Mr. Pennyworth said that the milk was contaminated and that I had to have a needle in me. Dad had to hold me down because it scared me. Then I woke up.”

“Jon, why didn’t you tell us?” His father asks with a sad frown on his face.

“I just didn’t think of it. I… I didn’t think it was anything serious.” Jon confesses. He doesn’t know why he didn’t tell his parents earlier because there was no reason for him to have hidden it before now. 

The man looks as if he wants to say more but he’s interrupted by his friend who looks to Tim. “And what about you?”

“You die.” The teenager says coldly in the most detached way possible. “You die and Uncle Clark had to tell us.”

Seemingly unperturbed by the announcement of his passing Batman presses for more information. “How did I pass?”

“I don’t remember but it was probably some JLA bs, and you sacrificed yourself for the sake of the planet.” Tim sighs and Jon can feel him hold himself tighter. “We were all really sad and Dick locked himself in the cave. That’s how that ended.”

“Mm.” Apparently they were just going to leave it at that so they continue on to the next point of conversation. “How do these visions vary? Is there any specific trigger that sets them off or are they random?”

There is immediately a light pressing sensation on his foot and Jon keeps his mouth shut. Tim answers for both of them. “It’s inconsistent and there is no distinct variable that connects what will trigger it. Over time they can be anticipated and stopped.”

Jon doesn’t feel like that’s completely right but he’s not the one answering so he doesn’t voice his confusion. Heck, even if he could answer he has no idea why they happen. The adults look at them and decide to move on without asking Jonathan for his theory. 

“Can you tell us about any other visions, dreams, blackouts, or whatever you two like to call them?” Superman asks.

There is still pressure on Jon’s foot so he stays quiet. “Can you be more specific?”

“Just anything you want to share. It can be about any vision you remember.”

“Skip. We’re not going to hand you information if you’re not going to be specific on the details.” 

“Alright.” Clark doesn’t fight the teen on it as he gestures for Batman to speak. 

The other man takes a deep breath before he asks his question. “Your visions appear to include versions of people you know. What are they like in your visions compared to how you know them in real life?”

The pressure is released from his foot and Jon readily answers. “Everyone is kinda the same but things are always really different. Like, sometimes everyone is older or their superhero costume is different, but no one is super different. Though… I remember thinking that Dami was a vegetarian but apparently that’s wrong even though most of Dami’s lunches are salads. What kind of lunch is just salad?!”

“Some people like their veggies, Jon.” His mother chuckles at the offense her son has taken against healthy lunches.

“It’s a crime against humanity!”

Batman looks at Jon with a small smile but quickly reverts back to his previous neutral expression. “How about your relationship with everyone? Is it the same?”

There is immediate pressure on Jonathan’s foot and Tim responds with, “It’s all the same. You still adopted me, Dick is still a pushy older brother, Jay is still a jerk to me, Damian is still the little hellspawn, and Cass is still my cool sister.”

“And your relationship with Jon? What are you two to each other?” 

“He’s still the best friend of my crappy little brother.”

“Yes, but I’m asking about his connection with you, Tim.” Batman elaborates sternly seeing that the teenager is deflecting. “You two appear to be awfully close even though I know for a fact that your interactions are limited. Dick once mentioned that you appear to be one of the few people Jonathan trusted after what appended in Hamilton, and we can’t ignore the fact that it appears that only the two of you are experiencing this phenomenon. I’ll ask again, what are you two to each other in your visions?”

The pressure is released from Jon and he answers after contemplating his wording. “Tim is my brother’s cool boyfriend.”

That answer immediately made the pressure go back on Jonathan’s foot as Batman goes full Dad mode and loses all the composure he previously held in favor of choking on air. “I’m sorry, WHAT?!”

“He doesn’t know what he’s talking about! I’m single and not ready to mingle no matter what Dick might say!” The teenager screeches, hugging Jonathan closely to his chest in an embarrassing panic. 

“WHO IS THIS BOY!?”

“WHY ARE YOU LIKE THIS!? I’M NOT DATING ANYONE!”

“I’M ALREADY WORRIED ABOUT ONE SON POTENTIALLY DATING ON OF CLARK’S KIDS! I DON’T NEED ANOTHER!”

“YOU’RE NOT LIKE THIS WITH JASON OR DICK!”

“BECAUSE YOU’RE A CHILD! THAT’S WHY I’M WORRIED! YOU’RE NOT READY TO DATE!”

“Bruce! Can we please get back on topic?” Superman cries running his hand down his face.

In the commotion, Tim accidentally takes his foot off of Jon’s, accidentally giving the boy the false impression that it was safe to talk. “Yeah! Tim and Kon-El take me out super-heroing and he calls Tim ‘Babe’ which is weird because I always thought that only girls were called that and they’re always kind of gross cause they keep touching each other-”

“Oh my God, Jon! Stop! Just stop!” The male begs, now physically trying to keep the boy’s mouth shut with his hands but because there is still nothing on his foot the child readily keeps going. 

“And Kon is really big too! I wish I had a brother like the one in my head because flying piggyback rides would be fun! Also, they let me fight crime and it goes so much better in my head than it does in real life! When the people in my head shoot me I get to fight back instead of them asking if I’m okay!”

“Jon please-!”

“Also, did you know that they live together even though they're both only seventeen? What’s up with that-”

“I’M WHAT?!”

“Over my dead body, he is!”

“Bruce, Tim did say that you died so-”

“Well, I guess I’m never going to die then, am I Clark!”

“BOYS!” Lois shouts, throwing her hands up in the air. “This is not the time for this and Tim hasn’t even done anything let alone shack up with Jonathan’s nonexistent brother!”

“Um… Lois… While we’re all having this conversation I think it’s best I tell you something.” Clark, not in Superman mode, nervously says as everyone gets situated back into their previous positions. Tim is definitely not letting up on the foot pressure now.

“Oh my- CLARK!” His wife immediately accuses him as she stands up. “Where is he!? WHO! HOW OLD!?”

“He’s five- fifteen? Seventeen? It’s complicated!” The man declares nervously as Lois towers over him from where he’s sitting. “He’s Luthor's!”

“LEX LUTHOR!?” She shouts, grabbing the last son of krypton by the collar of his flannel jacket and shaking him wildly. “YOU HAVE A KID WITH LEX LUTHOR AND ARE ONLY TELLING ME NOW!?”

“Look, I only found out about it a few weeks ago-”

“WEEKS!?”

The man puts his hands up in a defensive position to try and calm down the love of his life to no avail. “I mean I wasn’t a hundred percent sure until a while ago and I had to have some tests done but he’s mine and Luthor’s biological child. We’re going to work on a custody agreement and Jon already met him-”

“CONNER IS MY REAL BROTHER?!” Jon shouts clutching the sides of his face in shock.

“You’re dating Lex Luthor’s son!?” Bruce shouts accusatory at his child who honestly wants nothing more than to die.

“I’M NOT DATING ANYONE!”

And at that moment, because every God in existence hates Timothy Drake-Wayne, Jason Todd-Wayne kicks open the door to the chaotic scene in the and throws a very tied up and confused teenaged boy onto the wooden floor of the sitting room. “I found this little shit sneaking into our garden!”

Said teenage boy looks up at the group with a mixture of confusion and fear as his sky blue eyes land on Jonathan, who is still being held by Tim. “Jon? What are you doing here?”

With immediate recognition, Jon smiles at the boy and gleefully waves at him. “Hi, Conner! Did you know we’re brothers! Like real brothers! My dad is your mom!”

“What?”

“Jon, Sport, no.” Clark sighs, covering his face in embarrassment. “I am not Conner’s mom.”

“Then how is he my brother if Lex Luthor is his Dad? He has to have a mom!” Jon screams in an extremely confused screech since no one has bothered to teach him the intricacies of how children were made. “What are you even doing here, Conner: you live in Metropolis?”

The boy, still bound, shifts into a more comfortable position on the floor and replies, “Oh, Tim told me to come over. Said to just enter through his window.”

“When I said that I didn’t mean that you should do it during the day!”

Before anyone could say anything else the man in the back Jon forgot existed speaks up startling everyone. “I… I don’t mean to make things more complicated, but now is probably as good a time as any to introduce myself since I already have all the information I need.”

“Oh yeah, who are you?” Jon asks as Tim lets him down to untie the restrained teen. 

“Um… There are so many ways I can say this and this is definitely not how I wanted any of this to go down, but my name is Lor-Zod but my legal… or illegal name is Christopher Kent I’m your son.” He says making sure that Lois knew that she was included so that she wouldn’t believe Clark didn’t tell her about two sons in a row.

Even Clark appeared to be stunned at that revelation as he mutters out, “Did you say Zod?”

“I HAVE TWO BROTHERS!” Jon screams in amazement running up to the taller man to hug his leg, not even questioning the validity of that statement. If he says he’s Jon’s brother then it must be true because no one would lie about something so wondrous. “You are my brother now and I want a piggyback ride. Conner already gave me one so now it’s your turn.”

“Wait, I thought Dad said Jon was my only brother?” Conner questions as he’s freed from his restraints. 

It’s at that very moment Cassandra Cain-Wayne peeks her head in the room behind her second eldest brother (Who was enjoying the chaos unfolding in front of him) and decides to make her older sibling proud by adding fuel to the flame. She stares at Conner Luthor and Christopher Kent for an entire thirty seconds so that everyone is aware that she is obviously checking him out, and then straight up looks her father in the eyes saying, “He’s cute.” before walking away.

It took less than a second for the verbal stick of dynamite the teenage girl threw into the room to explode as Bruce Wayne, who was already growing red in the face from a plethora of emotions, yells, “EVERYONE WITH KRYPTONIAN DNA GET OUT OF MY MANOR BEFORE I FINISH WHAT BRAINIAC COULDN’T!”

Suffice to say the important conversation that had to be had wasn’t going to continue until further notice. That notice was going to be kryptonite based mace. Every Kryptonian did not have to be told twice as everyone who did not have Wayne in their name scattered and quickly made their way out of the manor and into the Kent’s family pick-up truck. The family backs out so quickly they leave tire marks etched into the billionaire’s pavement as they nearly crash into the front gate.

Jon, who was picked up by Christopher in the commotion, is into his booster seat as though the man done it a million times while Conner confusingly tries to remember how he even ended up in the vehicle. This was not how the second-grader expected this day to go but he ended up with two older brothers and life back into his soul. Sure that life came in the form of pure rage and vengeance but he’s not going to complain if it somehow leads to him an expanded family. 

The child takes his backpack off to put the Robin plushie he has been holding the entire time safely inside when he notices an unfamiliar object inside his bag. Aside from all the other knick-knacks that are always on Jon’s person, he notices a pristine scarlet metal object that looks like an old flip phone with a golden R embroidered on the back. The Kryptonian hybrid doesn’t have to be the world’s greatest detective to conclude that it was a communicator, a real communicator, used to contact Tim. 

This is going to be fun.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Y'all, the Super-family is just as insane as the Bat-Family but they just have a different crazy aesthetic. You think Batman has a child problem? Clark fucking Kent broke into a government facility to kidnap a mysterious child he catch from orbit and convinced his wife to adopt it as his own all because they didn't tell him that they moved the boy to a different place! The only reason The Super Family doesn't get more love is because they're more inconsistent (THANKS DC, I HATE IT.) Also, aesthetic-wise they are less appealing. More people would want billionaire shenanigans rather than the confusingly wholesome farmers.
> 
> I'm here to bring chaotic Super-Fam awareness to this website because it is extremely lacking.
> 
> In other news, shit will go down and I hope you're here for it. Thank you all for reading and I hope you're excited for next chapter!


	26. The Choices You Don't Make

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jonathan is doing his best to deal with the new normal that is his life, yet he realizes that he has no control over it. Everything that happens in his life happens in the background and all Jon wants is a little control for better or worse.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH! <\- That's me after I had to rewrite this chapter 3 time deleting 6k words total. In other news I love all of you and am so very thankful! 
> 
> I don't have too much to say other than it's been hard not writing Damian. He's the deuteragonist of the story (Jon is the protagonist in case anyone was wondering... duh) and while I have written chapters without him before he's always made some significant appearance. Spoilers: He shows up in a vision, but it's not the same as having him there. I'm definitely going to compensate for it next chapter but school starts on Monday for me so it might take a bit! 
> 
> Thank y'all once again and I hope you enjoy it!

Jonathan Samuel Kent is someone who can be described as emotionally open. It does not take a particularly insightful person to decipher how the boy is feeling because Jonathan never tries to hide it. The seven-year-old doesn’t find any meaning in hiding his emotional state from others because it leads to a more open conversation. When Jonathan feels joy, he beams brightly, and when he is experiencing sorrow, he brazenly sobs. When Jonathan experiences wrath, genuine and unadulterated rage, his blood boils so fiercely his fair complexion glows an alarming scarlet that signals his disposition to those around him. 

That doesn’t mean the boy is emotionally consistent. Like any other child, Jonathan will go through his ups and downs, but due to recent events his state of being becomes more explicit than it was before. Contrary to popular belief, heat vision is essentially harmless in the hands (or eyes) of an untrained elementary school-aged Kryptonian-human hybrid. Other than toasting up his waffle in the morning his new superpower’s only other purpose is to make it more obvious that Jonathan is mad at his supposed best friend. 

And why shouldn’t he be mad at Damian? The older boy intentionally planned his own kidnapping and somehow created a way to stop his freaking heartbeat all in a manner he wouldn’t have to confront the situation in a conversation! How hard is it to tell Jonathan, “I’m going back to live with my mom and I’m sorry we didn’t get to spend longer together. Oh by the way here’s that Robin doll I told you I’d replace. Bye!” 

Would Jon have taken the news well? Of course not but anything would have been better than what transpired. Few things in the world can piss Jonathan off: Damian being a butt, someone hurting someone else, lying, the season 3 ending of Monk-E-Monsters, and people making decisions for Jon when he is able to do it himself! Damian Al-Ghul Wayne has managed to do almost all of it in a matter of seconds! SECONDS. When Jonathan gets his hands on Damian he’s going to give him a taste of his own medicine! 

At least Jonathan plans to do so once he figures out where the heck Infinity Island is. The problem with finding Damian is that no one is willing to tell him where he is. Every time he asks his Dad all the man tells him is that Mr. Wayne is doing the best he can. Jon is starting to believe Batman might not be as great as he was once led to believe in the same way Superman has lost some of his grace. The Man of Steel isn’t as impressive when Jon realizes that he forgets to tie his shoes and can’t work the remote on their television. 

Batman’s best isn’t good enough for Jonathan! The boy needs to take action now because he already wasted enough time being sad! That time could have been used to find Damian and if Jon wasn’t mourning he could have been looking! Unfortunately for Jonathan, he was never the brains of any operation. Even during group projects he never took the lead because it was too difficult, however that doesn’t have to be the case now! 

This is why Jonathan is spending his recess in his school’s impressively large library trying to look for this Infinity Island to no avail. The only information the seven-year-old was able to find were several articles about kitchen renovations, and he’s pretty sure Dami doesn’t live in a kitchen. Jon is beginning to think that every kid’s show telling him the library and the internet have all the answers to any question lied.

The second-grader was in the middle of flipping through an encyclopedia of island nations he definitely couldn’t read when a tap on the shoulder startled him out of his seat. The jerky reaction causes the one who interrupted his research to yelp loudly causing several of the students around him to fervently shush them. After the initial shock, Jon realizes that it was only Colin who wanted his attention and he flushes and embarrassed red as he sits back down. 

“Sorry,” He whispers as the older redhead takes his seat next to him. “I was trying to read this book and didn’t notice you.”

“It’s fine.” Colin accepts as he leans over to read the section Jonathan is on. “This looks…”

“Boring?”

“Yep.” 

With a soft groan filled with exasperation, Jonathan slams his head into the pages of the book causing his glasses to press against his face. “Arrrrrggggggghhhhhhh! It’s so boring! I can’t even read it and it’s already boring me to tears! Tears, Colin, TEARS.”

Not perturbed by the sudden reaction the other boy merely takes the book out from under Jonathan’s head and looks over it himself. “I’m not a genius or anything but I can read this. Do you want me to help you?”

“Yes.” Jon pleads in a weak voice. 

Thin fingers flip to the back of the book for the index before tapping Jonathan on the nape. “Okay, so what are you looking for?”

“I’m looking for a place called Infinity Island,” Jon replies as he lifts his head from the wooden table. “It’s where Dami is from.”

Colin halts his skimming once he hears those words and he slams the book shut before turning to his friend with judgmental pale blue eyes. “Damian. The one you said was an assassin prince or whatever.”

“I don’t know any other Dami!” The younger boy snaps at his friend’s patronizing nature before immediately reverting to a more gentle tone. “Sorry, I just… I really miss Damian, but I’m also really mad at him. All I know is that I want to see him again and give him a piece of my mind.”

“It’s fine but I don’t think you’re going to find anything about where Damian lives in here, or in this entire library. Hell, I don’t think you’ll find anything in any library in Metropolis.” Colin explains as he puts the book down and adjusts the black-tie of his uniform. “If Damian is as- uh… unique as you say he is then nothing we look for by normal means is going to help.”

“What do you mean?” Jon asks as he watches Colin stand up and put the book away.

The taller child pulls Jonathan up by his left arm and pulls him out of the library before Jon could even push in his seat. Colin uses his school ID to open one of the many study rooms in the hallway and sits them down at the desk while he drags his hand down his face. It’s not the same one he and Damian used when Jon was first enrolled in West-Reeves, but they all look the same; expensive. 

“Jon, can you look up Batman’s identity?” The redhead asks with his hands still covering his face. 

“Uh… No?”

“Superman?”

“No.”

“Can you google where Superman lives?”

“I can look up my apartment.”

“But will it tell you Superman lives there?”

“No.”

“Then why-” The boy takes a deep breath as the younger boy looks up to him with childish sky blue eyes. “Then why do you think you could find where Damian lives? Do you even know anything else about this ‘Infinity Island’ other than it’s an island?”

Jon contemplates the question for a bit and holds his chin in his hands as he thinks about everything Damian has ever told him about his home. “Well… There are no kids, no games, and no TV shows. There is a pretty looking castle on it but not the kind I see in Disney movies and they have a volcano and there’s a humongous skull on it the looks like it’s spitting lava-”

“I’m sorry, what?”

“And there’s a nice beach on it! Dami painted it on his room’s walls, and it’s really pretty! I’ve never seen anything like it-”

“Are we just going to skim over the giant skull spitting lava?”

“Also he has a dragon bat! I don’t know what that is but I want to see it; Dami says his name is Goliath.”

“A what?”

“There’s a bunch of other stuff I probably forget but I think the most important part is the flowers. The flowers were beautiful!”

Colin stares at Jon with a blank expression before he smacks his forehead with an open palm and runs it down the front of his face with a long sigh. “I swear every time I talk to you I understand less about the world.”

“That’s not very nice.” Jon pouts with a glare.

“I know you’re not going to listen to me but I just want to say it will be impossible for you to even find Damian let alone get to where he is alone-”

“Oh, I’m not doing this alone! Robin is going to help me!” The boy chirps, taking off his backpack and fiddling around for the shiny red communicator he brought to school with him. “Not Dami Robin but Red Robin; the one that works with Batman!”

Colin stares wide-eyed at the device in hand and leans in to examine the contraction closer. “You- You had this the entire time, yet you tried to look in a boring encyclopedia first?!”

“Yes.” Jon states, not understanding the implied absurdity of his actions. “He said he knows where Damian is and gave me this walkie-talkie so he can help me!”

“JON! Jonathan Samson-”

“Samuel.”

“Jonathan Samuel Kent what in the world are you planning!?!” The boy scratches the communicator from Jon’s tiny fingers and promptly opens it with many objections from the second-grader as he scrolls through it. “Gods, this thing looks so old! I never have seen a flip phone before!”

“Colin, give it back!” Jon whines as he stands and tries to grab the object, but the significantly taller boy simply raises his hand to keep it out of reach. “Colin that’s mine!”

“Hello?” The voice of Tim greets through the speakers. “Jon, I’m on a critical mission right now so if this is important-”

“What is wrong with all of you! Did you give a fucking seven-year-old a superhero communicator?!” The ten-year-old shouts through the receiver of the device.

“You’re not Jon.” Tim states after a momentary pause.

“No, I’m the kid who has common sense as my superpower and you’re Robin! You’re supposed to be protecting children, not encouraging them to do dumb shit like going after assassins they have repressed feelings about!”

“My feelings are not repressed!” 

“THAT SHOULD BE THE LEAST OF YOUR WORRIES,” Colin shouts as Jonathan came up with the brilliant idea of climbing the taller boy like a goddamn tree. 

The two boys struggle for a bit, knocking into the tables and chairs around the study room until Jon manages to take the phone from his companion. “Sorry about that Ti- I mean- ROBIN!”

“It’s fine? Um… What is happening?” 

“Well I was trying to look up Infinity Island at my school’s library and I can’t find it- Colin!” The child screeches the larger boy leans all his weight onto the boy’s back causing them to fall over and make it so that he could steal back the red device. 

“I can’t get through to Jon but that won’t stop me from getting through someone’s thick head that he should not be doing anything dangerous! This fucking lunatic-”

“Those are bad words!”

“Jon, not the problem! This FUCKING lunatic ate off his own arm just to get to that asshole he likes so freaking much and now you’re about to start a shit show of epic proportions if you actually let him of an island full of assassins-”

“I’m sorry what was this about his arm?” Tim asks quickly in a highly concerning pitch. 

“...” Slowly with as much menace as one can muster from the itchy carpeted floor munches toppled over plastic chairs Colin turns to look accusingly at Jonathan, who has enough sense to at least appear slightly ashamed. “You didn’t tell anyone, did you?”

“I…” Jon scratches the back of his neck nervously as he collects the words lost on his tongue. “It never came up?”

“Bullshit.” Colin immediately rebuttals in a deadpan as he violently snaps the phone shut. 

“I just didn’t think to tell anyone. It’s not a big deal!” He tries to say in defense for his lack of action. He’s being honest as the only reason he didn’t tell anyone is that he didn’t see any problem with his action.

“Jon, you… I swear you’re going to get yourself killed.” Colin begins to fix the room as it appears all fight leaves his body. Jon still wants to get his walkie-talkie back but is currently more concerned about his eerily solemn friend. Once the room was back in once piece the boy sits down at one of the chairs. 

The younger boy brushes down his uniform as he takes a seat across from the other and the two sit in silence for what feels like forever, but couldn’t have been more than a handful of seconds. “Um… Colin?”

“Jonathan,” The redhead begins in a cadence that reminds him how Damian says his name. “Did I ever tell you about how I got my powers?”

“Um… You were born with it?” Jon answers unsurely, not remembering if he was ever told. 

“No.” He states tiredly as he rests his head on his hand. “I was looking for my mother.”

“But I thought you were an orphan.” The second-grader says bluntly before remembering that is an extremely rude thing to say. “Sorry, I don’t know what is up with me and words today-”

“Jon, it’s fine. I don’t care when people say it.” Colin reassures as he looks at his friend's horrified expression. “My mom is still alive but I don’t know where she is. I used to go out searching for her almost every day, but one day I guess I was at the wrong place at the wrong time. Scarecrow-”

“The guy that ruined Halloween?”

“Yeah, that one. He kidnapped me and experimented on my body for a long time. I don’t remember how long but I remember it hurt. That’s all I can recall. It was like my own blood was burning me from the inside and all I could do was take it. Eventually, Batman saved me from Scarecrow, but I was left like this.” To emphasize his point he holds up his other hand and grows it to it’s more muscular form before morphing it back. “It left me with a compliantly disfigured body. Do you want to know the first thing I thought of when I discovered my powers? The stupid thing I decided to do when I realized I had superpowers?”

Jonathan doesn’t answer but Colin keeps talking like he did.

“I thought I could train myself and become a hero. I felt invincible because I was stronger than everyone else, I had a power they didn’t, and I could use it to help people. I wanted to be like the heroes I grew up hearing about! And you know what Jon, my first outing was a hell of a lot better than yours!” He almost cheers that last sentence in a vindictive manner, but there was a hint of sadness behind it Jonathan couldn’t place. “I actually saved people, and I didn’t get kidnapped by at least my fifth outing! I could fight all the bad guys that came my way, but I wasn’t able to do anything about the one I lived with! The person who owned the orphanage I was sent to sold me to Roulette and I couldn’t fight her! I guess a million dollars changes things, huh? That’s what I’m worth Jonathan, a measly million dollars. 

“And that’s not even the worse part. The thing that hurt the most is that I trusted her, Jon. She would tell me she would let any more terrible things happen to me. She bought me comics that weren’t hand-me-downs, tucked me in, and even sent me to school. The place wasn’t great or even good but it was so much better than the constant pain or crippling loneliness I used to feel in that cramped little lab that used to be my home!

“Then one day, one day after who knows how many days, after countless confined rooms, broadcasted deathmatches, and bloody knuckles guess what happens. Come on,  **_guess_ ** .”

Jon really doesn’t want to because even with his limited hindsight he knows where this story is going. “That’s the night we met.”

“Yep.” Colin sighs. “One night, after what felt like the same as every other night, they sent in a kid dressed up in a fucking superhero onesie. The kid had the nerve to tell me he needed to save his friend that got him kidnapped in the first place because they were playing Hero.”

“Hey, we weren’t playing!” The boy being referred to pipes up defensively on deaf ears.

“It was like everything that went wrong in my life was looking back at me. Now here we are Jon, look at what you’re wanting to do now. You’re about to go into the fray yet again for someone who doesn’t deserve it and for what? Just to tell him off? Don’t lie to yourself Jon, anyone who knows you can see you want to save him.” 

Jonathan stares into Colin’s eyes for a prolonged tormenting moment and with an earnest but compassionate smile he asks, almost reluctantly, “Do you think he doesn’t deserve it?”

“After all the crap he pulled? No.”

“I don’t blame him, Colin.” Jon intervenes swiftly with a calming sigh. “You’re right Colin. Damian is an awful person and I won’t fight you on that. I don’t know why people keep acting like I don’t know that, but I do. I’m sorry all of that happened to you, but while you see someone that will hurt me and has hurt me I see someone that needs a friend.”

It takes all of Colin’s will power not to roll his eyes as he listens to Jonathan. “What, do you think your friendship will change him?”

“Maybe, maybe not; but I know that treating him like he’s a bad person will only make things worse.” He explains, still grinning at his friend. “I think that everyone deserves a chance to be a good person and Dami was never given that. Every time Dami told me something about his home he sounded so happy and his voice was filled with so much love, yet everything he said was so sad. He never got to play games or have friends or love anyone without expecting something in return. Dami’s other family taught him to kill people, to lie, and to hurt others; but Dami also loves them like how I love him. I want to save Dami but I also know I can’t force him back and expect him to be happy.

“If I want Damian to be a good person I can’t make him. I can’t just ask him to be good because that wouldn’t make him good. I know that Damian would try to be a good person, but if he’s only doing it because I asked him then nothing would have changed; he would still be bad. It has to be his choice, and even if it never happened I know he would be a good friend. It’s the same thing if I want him to come back to me; it has to be his choice, but I don’t think he has that.”

Another silent beat passes and Colin watches at Jon with cautious eyes then spoke up. “You have a point, but I think going over and talking things out is a stupid idea. They probably have ways to kill you before you can even get to Damian. Even if you somehow make it I don’t think you can do anything to save him.”

“Probably.” Jon shrugs as he takes this moment to take the Robin communicator from his friend’s lax fingers. “You could also tell on me. You won’t get in trouble for telling my parents and it’s obvious that you don’t want me to go.”

“Yeah, no crap I am. Even if you tell me not to or get mad I’ll do it because I don’t want you getting hurt.”

“I won’t get mad at you, Colin.” The younger boy corrects putting the device in his backpack. “I understand why you’re doing it. I just want to ask you one thing: Can you please not tell anyone?”

Colin’s brows raise at what seems to be a stupid request and he leans back in his chair with his arms crossed. “Uh… What?”

“I’m asking you, to your face, that you please please please pretty please with cherries and whip cream and rainbow or chocolate sprinkles on top not tell anyone!” Jonathan desperately begs with his hands clasped together in prayer and the best puppy dog eyes he could muster. “If his family are the ones who get him back they’re just going to take him and it’ll only cause more problems later but I think if I’m able to talk to him first then things will be better! So I’m begging you, please don’t tell on me!”

“Jon-”

“I’ll give you all of my money! I don’t have that much because I still have to pay back my brother-”

“When did you get a brother?”

“But you can have my lunch money! I’ll even give you all of my videogames and do all of your homework but I’m warning you now I’m not that smart and you won’t get a good grade-”

“You are terrible at bribing people.”

“I will get on my knees and cry if that’s what it will take for you not to tell anyone, Colin! I’ll do it right now!” Jonathan gets out of his seat to slinks down to the carpet but is rapidly picked up to his feet.

“Jon, oh my God stop. Just…” The redhead rubs his face with the hand not holding his friend up and says, “You’re being silly. I don’t want your games- wait, do you have Final Fantasy IX?”

“Yes.”

“Okay I want one game but I don’t want your money, your help on my homework, or seeing you beg.” 

“So all you want is my video game and you won’t tell anyone, right? Promise?”

“No,” Colin remedies tiredly before switching his expression into something more encouraging. “I want your video game but that’s not part of this. I won’t tell anyone on one- no, three conditions.”

“ANYTHING!” Jon answers hopefully. 

The fifth-grader nods as he lets go of Jonathan’s arm and holds out three fingers, putting one down for each condition listed. “One: Bring an adult with you, Robin doesn’t count because he’s fifteen. Two: Have an actual plan.”

None of those were what Jon was expecting to hear but if it’ll keep Colin quiet and happy he’ll do it. “That doesn’t sound too hard! I’ll do it!” 

“Good but I’m not done.” Colin points out. “Three: You’re taking me with you.”

Error 404, Jon does not compute. 

“So you’ll help me!?” Jonathan screams excitedly only to become dejected as the older redhead facepalms at his words. 

“No, I’m making sure you don’t wander off and end up at the bottom of the ocean again you self sacrificial dummy!” The boy screeches shaking Jonathan back and forth. 

“Oh yeah, that did happen,” Jon recalls. “I was more concerned about the dead bodies stuck in the back of the van.”

“WHAT?!”

Unfortunately for Colin, he wasn’t able to chastise his younger innocent friend any longer as recess comes to an end and they are forced to head back to class. After school, while Colin gets on Mr. Pennyworth’s helicopter, Jon waits for his father at the designated pick-up roundabout in front of the elementary school. It doesn’t take long for Jonathan to see his Dad’s well-worked scarlet farm truck makes its way towards the school. 

After three whole minutes, it was still making its way to him at a snail’s pace.

It was also holding up traffic behind it.

Wow, Jonathan has never seen so many angry limo drivers in his life.

Eventually, the red truck stops in front of him and Clark Kent exits the passenger side of the vehicle to greet his son and buckle him into the back. “Hey Sport, how was school?”

“It was fine,” Jon replies as he’s lifted into the truck and put into his booster seat. Inside on the driver’s seat sat his new eldest brother who is white-knuckling the steering wheel of the truck. “Hi Chris, I didn’t know you could drive!” 

“I can’t.” The brunette answers without any hesitation or embarrassment. “Driver’s education isn’t really something I could learn in a government lab.”

“Which is why I’m teaching him.” Jon’s father says as he closes the door and gets back in the front seat. 

Chris puts the vehicle in drive and the three were off to their tiny apartment in Metropolis one mile at a time. Jonathan glances out the window and back at his sibling telling him, “I think I can walk faster than this.”

“I know you can but I’m in a giant metal death machine I can barely control surrounded by tiny children. I refuse to go any faster!”

“Chris, are you even using the accelerator?” The black-haired man asks, leaning to look at the man’s foot placement. 

“Noooope, I’m riding the brakes like my life depends on it!” He reveals as he grips the wheel tighter. “What part of giant metal death machine do you not understand?”

“The truck ain’t some hunk of junk, Chris. She served my father well, she served me some good, and now she’s teaching you the ropes of drivin’.” Clark reminisces to the chagrin of the young man.

“Dad- Clar-”

“You can call me, Dad. It’s what you’re most comfortable with and I keep telling you I don’t mind.”

“Dad, all cars are giant metal death machines.”

“I don’t even think you could kill a fly with the speeds you’re pushing.” The father cackles, slapping his knees like he made some hilarious joke. 

It’s clear to Jonathan that his journey home won’t be the fifteen to twenty minutes it usually is, so he decides to ask his brother all of the questions ever. “Chris, why do you want to drive? How come they didn’t teach you at your old home? What are you going to do once you learn to drive? We only have two cars and if you learn to drive does that mean we’ll have to buy a third car? If we buy a third car can I come help pick one out? Can we get a racecar? We probably couldn’t drive it anywhere, but I want one! If you don’t want a racecar can I have a racecar? I can’t drive but I can drive faster than you so that means I’m a better driver. When you learn how to drive can you drive me to the toy store? I don’t know where it is, but Conner took me there once, but he only did that because we were both lost but we had a plan not to be lost so that means we were never really lost. Speaking of lost, do you have a phone because Mom and Dad’s phones have an app that tells them where to go? In old cartoons, people hold real maps when they drive but I think if you tried that in real life you would crash. Have you crashed yet? I’ve crashed before and it was kinda fun except for the fact I was sinking but it turned out fine. I bet if I had more time I could’ve figured out how to get out on my own because I’m a great swimmer. Can you swim? Did the government lab where your rocketship crashed have a swimming pool? I can swim, but I haven’t swum since summer when Dami was here, and we won this really fun picnic but then it wasn’t fun because when I got home I don’t remember anything because of the milk I drank at the picnic. I remember that cause it was in my vision and now I think all milk is poisonous but I know it’s not. My body is weird like and I should be more sad about it but I’m just upset I can’t eat ice cream anymore. Did they give you ice cream or do you only remember icecream through your visions? Since almost all of your memories are visions/blackouts does that me you only kinda remember how foods tastes-”

“Jon, buddy, Chickadee, for the sake of my sanity please stop!” Chris urges the child rattling off in the back seat. “If you have any questions I promise to answer all of them but you have to let me focus on driving.”

Chickadee?

“Chickadee!?! Really?” Kon-El groans as he throws his head back in his seat at the meeting table in the Young Justice HQ. “You’re already breaking my heart here buddy by not being my super cool sidekick and now you won’t even put ‘Super’ in your name!” Tim rolls his eyes at his boyfriend’s overreaction and lovingly smacks him upside the head. “Ow!”

“That can’t hurt you.”

“Ow, my feelings!” The larger teenager corrects as he begins to fake sob into the leather sleeve of his uniform. “Jon, are you seriously going to leave me for Tim? What about all that we’ve been through? What about all the good times that we had?”

“Kon, oh my god it’s just a temporary name.” Red Robin laughs as he flops down on the male’s lap and begins lazily texting on his phone. “And what is wrong with training under me?”

“Do you want a list because I can give you one?”

Jon nods in agreement as he eats some of the carrots Mr. Pennyworth packed in his lunchbox. “Kon it’s going to be fine! Besides, you and Kara already protect Metropolis and Chris is working with the JLA doing Superman stuff! I need to do my own thing!”

“But to not even have ‘Super’ in your name? Are you seriously going to be one of the birds?” Kon-El cries again only to be flicked on his glasses by the boy in his lap. 

The eight-year-old boy pouts at his brother’s accusation and leans back in his own seat. “I can’t be a Super if I’m going to help patrol Gotham. Dami needs me since he and Dick are stretched thin ever since Batman died. Besides, what would I have been called? Super baby? You’re already Superboy-”

“A name I didn’t choose-”

“And I’m younger than you! What else is there that I could have been called?”

“Supernova?” Tim cuts in, not taking his eyes off of his cellular device the entire conversation. “Your family is solar-powered.”

Kon snorts at the observation and messes up his boyfriend’s already messy bed-head telling him, “Babe, you’re making us sound like plant people.”

“I want to be a plant person!” Jon cheers happily, holding out a piece of broccoli for emphasis. “Imagine all of the cool superpowers I could get! Maybe I’ll finally get super-healing or be able to breathe in space!”

“Jon, I don’t know what they’re teaching you at Gotham Academy but plants can’t do that.”

“Actually Poison Ivy does have an above-average healing factor compared to most regular humans and Jon, so he wouldn’t be completely wrong. Let’s ask her about that next time we fight.”

Appalled by the suggestion Kon gasps and questions, “You’re really planning on letting my eight-year-old baby brother fight a Gotham Rouge? Remind me while we’re still together?” His answer came in a short peck on the lips and before the teen could register it Tim was already back on his phone. “Oh yeah, that’s why.”

“Eeeeewww, do you two mind? I’m like, right here.” Jon gags loudly due to having witnessed the level of grossness that was his brother and Tim.

“Rude.” His mentor scoffs, finally putting his phone back into his utility belt. “Kon, Jonathan is already a bird. He’s a blue-eyed black-haired boy with dead parents taken in by an adult with a tragic past and horribly violent coping mechanisms.”

“Oh, so you’re an adult now?” 

Tim quickly flips the taller teen off and gets back on his feet. “I run a fortune 500 company, raise a kid, and pay several mortgages, including yours, all while training a superpowered elementary schooler combat and basic multiplication-”

“I still don’t know any math past my 5-time tables!” Jon interrupts helpfully.

“Do you see what I have to work with? If this doesn’t make me an adult I don’t know what will.” He states as he pulls his cowl over his head. “Come on, let’s go before the demon brat wakes up and realizes Jon’s not in the manor.”

“DRAKE YOU HEATHEN! Unhand Jonathan this instant, you wreck of a human being!”

“Jon, that’s our cue! SCATTER!” The teen shouts as he picks the boy up like a sack of potatoes while sprinting to the teleporter leaving a very amused Kryptonian clone hybrid laughing in his seat as he watches an eleven-year-old in Batman pajamas with a katana give chase.

As the two of them retreat into the distance Jonathan couldn’t help but notice something off about his best friend. The vision was fading as the bright light of the teleport engulfed them as Damian’s enraged yet tried face came into view. If Jonathan blinked he would have missed the simple unassuming detail, but he didn’t. He saw for a brief moment what should have been striking emerald eyes were instead a stunning ocean blue.

“Jon, Jonno? Are you asleep or having another blackout?” Clark Kent asks as he shakes his son awake. “Chris, how long are these supposed to last?”

“I dunno? The lengths are really inconsistent but most of them don’t ask longer than a couple of minutes to an hour.” Christopher replies, getting out of the driver’s side of the truck and pulling out the apartment keycard from his pocket. “But hey, at least we made it home in one piece!”

“Chris…” The man sighs and shakes his head as he picks up Jon who suddenly jolts to life.

Jon shakes his head side to side and takes in his surroundings before staring at his older brother. “Huh- oh wow, I thought that we’d still be driving.”

“Hey!”

The Kryptonian laughs at his son’s comment and sets him down while taking the boy’s superman backpack. “We made it home before dinner. So what did you see this time; Anything interesting?”

“Kinda? Dami had blue eyes.”

“Does he not normally have blue eyes?” Chris asks as he locks the car with the keyfob.

Jon shakes his head as he trots up the brunet. “No, his eyes are this really pretty green!”

The man stares at Jonathan’s expression searching for something that wasn’t there before smiling back and patting his head. “Oh, that’s neat. We have enough black hair blue eye heroes in the world already.”

“Heroes?” The hybrid questions as the three of them make their way inside the apartment complex. “You think we’re going to be heroes?”

Jonathan’s going to be honest, he hasn’t really thought about being a superhero like his dad as often as he did before. He was so preoccupied with more important matters that his short-lived dream of heroism took a backseat. Jon hasn’t even been able to replace his superhero costume for a multitude of reasons but the main one being that he was technically still grounded. All superhero-related items/actions were banned meaning no teleporters, no one was allowed to be in uniform while in front of Jon (unless it was an emergency), no treehouse, and no use of Superpowers while Jonathan was around.

“I mean, yeah I guess.” The man shrugs as they step into the elevator. “Why wouldn’t you?”

“Chris.” Their father calls with a firm tone as the elevator doors slide shut. “Jonathan isn’t going to be a superhero.”

This news appears to surprise the man, but he is able to not let it affect his calm demeanor as he inquires further. “I see. I just assumed because Miss Kara started off as a hero so young that Jon would be a hero eventually.”

Clark nods understandingly but explains, “I understand why you would think that and I’ll admit that it would be all kinds of heartwarming to see Jon follow in my footsteps, but that’s not something we want or encourage. It’s best that Jon just lives as a normal boy instead. Also, don’t call Kara ‘Miss Kara.’ She’ll never live it down.”

“That just makes me want to call her that more!” Chris chuckles as the lift stops on their floor and the group gets out to their apartment while he fiddles with the keyring to find the one that opens their door. “But you’re right, we probably shouldn’t let Jon in on the superhero life style.”

Jon’s dad laughs along with him as Jon himself stands next to them not understanding what is funny and miffed that he apparently doesn’t have a choice in his future. “What about Conner? He’s also a kid and you're his mom! Does that mean you’re not going to let him be a superhero too?”

“Jonno, I’ve told you that I’m not his mom.” 

“His Daddy?” Jon tries again only to hear Chris wheeze from next to him.

“YES! That is what dad is!” He somehow says between breathless laughter. “We have to tell Conner!”

“I don’t mind if that’s what Conner wants to call me but you shouldn’t persuade him to call me that.” While the younger man tries to catch his breath Clark takes the keys from his eldest son and unlocks the door. “Luthor and I agree that we wouldn’t let Conner follow in our footsteps. Besides, I’m sure he is smart enough to see that there is more in life than what we have to offer. Who knows, maybe he’ll take over LexCorp and do good in his own way.”

Once the door to Jonathan’s home opens they are promptly rushed by his mother who is dressed in a purple business suit and carrying her work satchel. Clark hold’s his wife steady to stop her from falling over asking, “Woah there, where’s the fire?”

“Star Labs.” She answers without hesitation while fixing her loose heel.

Jon’s father adjusts his glasses and holds open the collar of his button-down flannel shirt but Lois stops him by resting her hand on top of his. “It’s not a literal fire, but you might want to check it out. It’s on  WGBS right now.” And with that, she pats both of her sons on the head as she runs the direction they all just came from. 

The two older men didn’t waste a second more in the hall as they trample into the apartment and turn on the television leaving Jon to close the door behind them. Once he puts his stuff down at the front he joins his family on the couch bed Chris has been using to watch the news. What he sees is… well, in all honesty, it’s utterly confusing is what it is.

Dangling off of A burning Star-Labs building Jonathan remembers passing by a month ago is Robin, Tim Drake-Wayne, in full uniform holding a metal briefcase in his arms. The reporter on the screen tells the cameraman to zoom in on the teen as she describes the scene, “This is Cat Grant with WGBS-Metropolis coming to you live from S.T.A.R-Labs continual coverage on the situation.”

“I thought Lois said there wasn’t a fire.” Chris gasps as another explosion wrecks another section of the building. He turns to look at his father to be met with an empty space and an open patio door. Jon takes his Dad’s place next to Chris with his eyes glued to the screen as the familiar symbol of hope enters the screen, but not the one he thought he’d see.

“Citizens in the affected surrounding area have been evacuated but I’m getting news that there are still people inside the building!” The woman announces as Conner, without anything to mask his identity, jumps out one of the many broken windows dressed in the Superman shirt and cape Jon gave him when they first met. “Someone else is there! I- it looks like another young hero!” 

Seeing his companion head towards him Robin lets go of the ledge and begins free-falling to the concrete below. The Half-Kryptonian catches Tim before his body could even make it halfway and the two fly back inside the flaming structure for whatever reason. The second they disappear from view a blur of red and blue shoots into the building and comes out with several scientists in his arms before going back inside to search for more.

“Superman just arrived on the scene!” Cat Grant cheers along with many of the rescue personnel on-site. “The situation is now completely under control thanks to our very own Man of Steel!” 

This was the real power of Superman; To turn a complex and dire situation into something to be overcome in a matter of seconds just by being there. Everything was so chaotic but now thanks to the famous last son of Krypton the mood of everyone around them became hopeful. Jonathan didn’t even notice the other people near the burning building, yet the second his dad showed up they all came into view helping the soot-covered scientists into ambulances and firefighters arrive on the scene to tame the flames around them. 

“What do you think happened?” Jon asks aloud to no one in particular, but his brother sees it as directed towards him.

“I don’t know Jon but whatever it is I know it’s probably Re- Robin’s fault.” He confesses, brown eyes glaring at the screen. 

“Maybe they were fighting bad guys!” Jon defends as he watches another blast shake the foundation of the laboratory causing half the building to collapse.

“That’s definitely what was going on, but Robin just brought our brother into that mess, Jon.” Chris explains as he anxiously bites his thumbnail. “There was no way that they just happened to meet and you heard Dad say that he wasn’t going to let Conner be a superhero.”

“It doesn’t matter if Dad was going to let Conner do it or not,” Jon begins to explain as Superman carries the two teenage boys out of the building. “Conner wouldn’t do it if he didn’t want to. Maybe he should give Conner the choice of being a hero instead of forcing him not to.”

“Jon, you’re too young to understand, but not everyone can make choices the same way adults can. You’ll understand when you grow up.”

“Why am I too young to understand? If I don’t understand shouldn’t you just explain it to me and tell me instead of saying I should wait till I get older! What makes adults so special?” The child asks with increasing volume feeling the heat from his eyes simmer. “Why do I have to keep waiting because you’re too scared to tell me!?”

“Jon, where is this coming from?” Chris demands as he goes to cover Jonathan’s eyes with his hands. “Look, when you’re young you haven’t learned enough about the world to make a decision about certain important things. When you grow up you learn more and at that point, you can-”

“At that point, I can do what? Waste more time I could have been preparing to do what I should’ve been doing this entire time?”

The young man looks at his little brother sorrowfully and takes off the child’s glasses. “Jon, you’re not talking about Conner, are you?”

“Why…” The boy whimpers with a cracked voice. “Why do we have to just go along with what other people choose for us? Why doesn’t anyone ever ask what we want, why didn’t he just ask me what I wanted? I never asked to be protected, I never wanted to be left alone so people could decide what was best for me! Mom, Dad, and even Dami kept trying to tell me what was best for me like they knew what would make me happy or strong, but I’M RIGHT HERE! I’m right here and I have a voice and a brain! I’m seven, not stupid!”

“No, Jon, we don’t think you’re stupid; we never thought that,” Chris reassures holding the child in close. “I wasn’t there for everything but I know that Mom and Dad make decisions for you because they want what’s best for you. They’re your parents and if you don’t understand something they do I know they’ll explain it to you if you ask-”

“But that’s not what I said!” Jon shouts into Chris’s shirt. “I don’t want to know why they chose something for me afterward! It’s too late because the decision is already made! They already took away years of my life hiding who I was from me! They hid who they were because they thought it would be best! What if they decided to keep quiet longer? What if I thought I was just a normal farm boy in Hamilton? My life wouldn’t be better or worse; my life would have just been a lie! Now I hear that I’m not allowed to choose my future?” 

Chris didn’t know what to say to Jonathan’s outburst so he continued to hold him in silence.

“And then there’s Dami! If he just said something instead of leaving without so much as a goodbye I wouldn’t be feeling like this! Did he think it would hurt less? Did he think if he just vanished I would be able to act as if nothing happened? Like I didn’t care for him?! I know I wouldn’t have liked it but at least I wouldn’t be feeling so empty! What gives him the right to think that was best for me? Where does he go off being my friend and just abandoning me when I thought everything was fine! Why did he hide it from me? I wouldn’t have blamed him… Everyone keeps telling me that they’re working on getting Damian back; I’m just a kid, I should wait, it’s not my problem. It is my problem because it’s affecting me too! He didn’t just leave them, he left me too!”

“Jonathan,” The man sighs, softly stroking his little brother’s messy black hair. “Damian might not have had a choice in whether he wanted to stay or go.”

“I know and that’s what sucks! None of us have a choice! Because we’re kids, because we’re young, we’re forced to just deal with other people’s choices instead of deciding for ourselves!” Jon sobs clinging closer to his older brother while Chris uses his free hand to turn off the television. “Do our choices mean less? Is that why we don’t have any? I’m trying to act like I’m not breaking inside but I can’t keep it up! I’m bad at hiding my feelings!”

The two hold each other on the couch while Jonathan continues to release the tears he’s been holding for who knows how long. They stayed like that after the smoke in the distance cleared, after Superman came home, after their mother got back from work, and even after the sunset. Jon cried until he didn’t know what he was crying about anymore. He couldn’t think anymore; he didn’t want to. He just wanted to feel because he spent so long feeling numb, then angry, then determined, but never sad. That’s all he wanted to feel even though he hates it.

Jonathan cried himself to the point of exhaustion and felt his body be lifted by his brother to his bedroom. He feels himself being tucked in by his parents and kissed on the head as if nothing was wrong; like he didn’t just spend hours crying. Maybe they thought he needed some time or that he was too tired to talk about it but they didn’t ask. They let him drift off into slumber making the last thing Jonathan hears be hushed whispers of his family in the living room. They were talking about him probably but Jon didn’t want to use his hearing to tune in. He was still, after two weeks, listening for Damian.

Ba-bump Ba-bump Ba-bump Ba-bump Ba-bump

And he never told anyone that he finally found him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I actually hinted that Jon could hear Damian earlier in the chapter but after re-reading it I literally couldn't tell so there is some terribly written foreshadowing for ya. If you caught on to it then props to ya cause I didn't and I wrote this fucker.
> 
> This fic has not treated Colin well. I swear I love him (and so should DC). I could have written him to be a more cheerful and happy person like he's usually portrayed in fics and the few comics he's in, but his character (while a positive person) is also more grounded. So I decided to play that up, and to contrast Jonathan naive optimism and Damian's insanely skewed ego Colin is just a person with common sense. Common sense is the strongest superpower in comic and in real life.
> 
> In other news, Tim continues to be in his own little fic on the side causing chaos in his own way.
> 
> That aside Jon is a blazing selfish hypocrite. This isn't new or revolutionary because I wrote to him to be that way since chapter 1. I don't know if anyone remembers being a kid and how it feels but we were all selfish assholes, even the good kids. It's not their fault cause they're tiny people with a narrow comprehension of the world, but talking that's the thing; kids are still people. Am I saying we should let kids fight crime and make huge life-changing decisions? Oh fuck no, but children still have opinions. Sometimes the choices they make are dumb or weird but they're still real none the less. Do that mean Jon is right when he talks about wanting a say in everything? Umm... Yes & no but I'll leave that reasoning up to you. 
> 
> Thank you for reading/commenting/Kudos! 
> 
> Next Chapter: Where in the world is Damian Wayne


	27. Endless Fantasy (Part 1)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Damian comes home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's 1 AM, I'm tired, broke (Thanks Textbooks!), and done with all my homework this month. How? I study like I write; Without a break or fucks given. Probably going to see grammar error in here again but YAY! I got it out and I did read over it. At least there's art to make up for it.
> 
> As always thank you all so much for reading! I love you all so much and your support has kept me going through rough times! Writing this fic is so fun and you all help make it fun!

Damian Al-Ghul is a boy who doesn’t know the meaning of moderation. When something is asked of him he will go above and beyond the expectations bestowed upon him while ensuring that he leaves no room for error. His upbringing was created in a way that made sure he became the perfect heir to his family’s name. Everything he’s ever experienced was meticulously coordinated by his family to extinguish any hint of weakness left inside of him. Damian thought his life was the peak of what humans could achieve under his grandfather’s tutelage. At least that’s what he thought before he left Infinity Island for a mission that was going to test his resolve and loyalty to the League on a scale he’s never felt before.

Living under his father’s abode was a downgrade from the lifestyle Damian is accustomed to. For starters, there was only one servant who was given permission to run his lips loosely in charge of taking care of the entire manor. While the manor was a far cry from the estate he calls home it was by no means manageable for one person. There was also the issue of Damian’s presence being relegated into the shadows while his father occupied what should be his training to spend time with his inferior charges. 

Damian doesn’t blame his sire for preferring the children he handpicked himself since he had no say in the young assassin’s previous instruction. Why bother working with a student he must reeducate when his father has perfect control over the ones he already has? The man uses a rather effective strategy for ensuring that his wards remain loyal to him: find vulnerable children during the lowest point in their life and build them back up in his image. The procedure is simple, effective, and profitable if done correctly, yet would not work on Damian due to his unique circumstance. 

That is why the ten-year-old must push himself to be seen by his father so that he may get the training his mother wants for him. Acknowledgment is the first hurdle he must overcome because all good things need to be earned. He was foolish to expect his lineage to mean anything in this new land he’s been placed in and must teach his father how much he is worth. 

There are a few issues that hinder his ability to do this. First: He is not allowed to sit in during training. Second: He doesn’t have easy access to the armory. Lastly: Everyone in the Wayne manor has made it their life mission to act as though he isn’t the son of the world’s greatest detective or a trained assassin. It was begging to grate on Damian's nerves.

Who is he kidding? Damian knows his temper is the size and strength of a cheap golf pencil. This entire situation was like a nightmare the child didn’t know his sadistic subconscious could come up with. The heir to the Al-Ghul name is not some peasant that is meant to be mingling with the unworthy masses! He is superior to them in every single way right down to his genetic makeup! Literally. Talia Al-Ghul, his wonderful beautiful mother, spent billions in research and consultation with the greatest minds in the world to engineer Damian’s body structure, muscle mass, metabolism, and chemical make-up to be perfect. 

“Who do those plebeians think they are? Who gave them the right to hold me back from my destiny!?” He snarls as he snaps the canvas he was painting on in half. “Those that oppose me will soon find themselves eating through a straw.”

Next to him, now covered in an arrow of oil paints that splashed onto him from the outburst, Damian’s horribly inept ally whips the liquid away from his sky blue eyes and asks, “What’s a plebeian? And what’s so bad about straws? Straws can be fun and come in funny shapes or words!”

If his callus hands weren’t covered in paint the older boy would slap his own forehead in frustration. In an attempt to gain the favor of his father Damian had agreed to partner up with a very insistent child who might also be the dumbest living being he has ever had the displeasure of meeting. For an utter miracle of a functioning person, because that’s the only description for a half-Kryptonian hybrid who cannot perform basic addition, Jonathan Samuel Kent is, unfortunately, his only associate. While Damian would like to take the credit in successfully manipulating the potentially powerful being into his servitude it would be a complete lie. The boy, after several murder attempts on Damian’s end, got it into his thick skull that they should be… urgh, friends. Jonathan did this to himself and that fact confounds the older boy’s brain to this day. 

“Ow! I think it’s in my eyes!” The boy cries as he continues to make his predicament worse by slathering the paint on his face around. “It's definitely in my eyes!” 

“-Tt- Why are you crying about it? You cannot feel pain.” Damian points out as he tosses the hand towel he used to wipe off his dirty paintbrushes at Jon’s face. He also makes a note on ridding the alien of his useless reflex towards supposed pain in the near future.

Jonathan wipes his face down with the stained cloth until he is deprived of all colors he wasn’t dining before the indent then glares at his so-called friend. “You’re such a butt.”

“I’m well aware of your infatuation to call me that.” The boy sighs as he tosses the broken canvas into the garbage can next to him. 

“Arrrrgggghhhh, I hate you!”

“Happy to hear it.” Damian shoots back monotone as he grabs another canvas from under the low table in the treehouse. The seven-year-old will need more training than Damian first anticipated. He’ll visit him at his home in Hamilton tonight to test his reflexes and get a base for exactly how far behind Superman’s son is. 

While he didn’t like Jonathan the indestructible child is his greatest tool he has for achieving his goal. Father’s favorite ward Dick Grayson is on a crusade against his personal collection of weaponry, but it’s clear he encourages Damian to interact with Jon. The idiotic boy’s best feature is that he doesn’t present himself as a weapon of mass destruction. Damian has planned for every scenario on how to use Jonathan to his fullest potential no matter what may come. 

In the event Jonathan develops more of his father’s abilities Damian has a plan for that too. Superhearing/vision would make Jonathan excellent at resonances, therefore, making him a spy more than worthy of being accepted by the League of Assassins. If Jonathan develops his more offensive abilities such as super strength/laser vision/ice breath Damian will mold him into his personal right hand to execute those in his way. The Demon’s Son created many other plans for different combinations of Jonathan’s superpowers, however, if Jonathan’s only power stays invincibility he’ll condition a dependency into him that ensures the child won’t be able to live without him; after all what is a shield if it doesn’t protect its master.

Jonathan is young, naive, optimistic, and entirely too trusting for his own good. This makes him easily moldable to Damian as he’s already had years of learning manipulation from the best, his mother. Once Jonathan can’t live without Damian he’ll have to devise a way to take him back to Infinity Island for further training. This is clearly the best course of action because not only will the assassin gain the favor of his father, he’ll also obtain a weapon no one else has ever obtained before.

“Dami, I love you.”

Wait.

“Do you love me?”

This isn’t right.

“Did you really think you could leave me, Dami?”

That’s not how this memory went.

Hastily the ten-year-old snaps his head to where he remembers Jonathan sitting on the floor next to the computer in their base lightly stained in the rainbow paint to find his friend standing over him with his eyes glowing crimson. Immediately Damian falls backward and begins crawling away from his best friend while maintaining eye contact. This demented version of the hybrid continued to gaze upon with a deranged loving smile at Damian’s panicked figure before taking one step forward.

That was all the fifth-grader needed to realize getting out of this place because something is clearly wrong. His limbs suddenly felt like lead but he pushed through the pain of moving as he leapt out of the open treehouse door expecting to land onto the grass of the clearing below, yet that’s not what happened. His body slams onto a smooth cold surface causing immense pain to course through him. Damian lifts his body up from the ground with the palms of his hands and below him was his reflection staring back at him, but it couldn’t be him. 

The Damian in the mirror was covered in blood and wearing his traditional green silk robe at him with disapproving toxic green. His hands were folded over his lips which were stuck in a thin frown that resembles the constant expression of his grandfather to an unsightly degree. Damian opens his mouth to yelp in shock but his reflection stops him by holding his hand up resolutely.

“Don’t, it’s beneath you.” The mirror commands him in his own voice. “What do you think you’re doing?”

After taking a minute to gain his bearings the young boy looks around to find that there is no clearing, no forest, no fortress, and no Jonathan anywhere in sighs. He’s in an endless and wide hallway seemingly completely made of mirrors. His reflection gets up off the floor, though, he doesn’t leave the surface of the mirror and walks in front of the wall Damian is staring at. Perplexed by the surrealness of what’s happening around him Damian orders, “I demand you tell me what’s going on!”

His reflection scoffs at him and coyly taps the wall between them directed to Damian’s attire. “You’re commanding me? Please, I’m not going to listen to a child in a Batman shirt.” 

The ten-year-old groans as he looks down at the clothing Grayson picked out for him earlier that day and throws his hands up in defeat. “I didn’t choose this!”

“Now you’re so docile you can’t even dress?”

Enraged, Damian throws a punch at the mirror, completely willing to cut up his hand in the process if it meant this perversion of his identity would stop laughing at him. He’s disappointed when his fist connects and nothing happens. All there was to indicate he even had any effect on his surroundings is the dull thud of his fist connecting and an unamused glance from himself. 

“Pathetic.” The duplicate spits with increasingly furrowing brows. “Oh how far you’ve fallen.”

Damian is ashamed to admit that it takes him another minute to finally understand what was going on. Once he realizes his position he facepalms, not getting paint on his features because there isn’t any. None of what was happening was real. “I’m suffering from pit madness.”

“Congratulations on achieving basic deduction. I’m so glad to see your brain hasn’t been damaged to the point of no return.” Mirror Damian sarcastically cheers in a dull cadence. 

“Shut up.” Damian sighs dragging his palm down the front of his face. “Please tell me I’m unconscious and not stumbling about the Lazarus Pit talking to myself.”

The reflection rolls his eyes and crosses his arms as he answers, “Don’t worry, Mother made sure to save us from that embarrassment again. You’re thankfully comatose in the medical ward floating in Lazerus water hooked up to a temporary mechanical heart as per request.”

“Temporary?”

“Do you honestly believe that Mother would butcher her own flesh and blood so that he can hide from a seven-year-old? Of course, you don't; I wouldn’t be telling you if that were the case.”

“God, I hate you.” Damian groans, taking his hand off his face to look at the doppelganger. 

“I know, I’m you.”

He knew that he had some esteem issues but the heir to the Al-Ghul name never expected things to get so bad that even his subconscious hated him. Now the boy is stuck in a horrid conjuration of his mind for who knows how long as the flow of time rarely coincides with the processes of his brain. Damian really needs to do some self-reflection once he wakes up from this illusion.

“Why wait till you’re out there to embarrass yourself when you could do it in here?” The reflection asks as he casually takes the lotus position on the floor. 

Welp, Damian has nothing to lose so he might as well embrace the crazy. He plops himself on the ground, not as graceful as his counterpart, and sits on his knees in a meditative position. “Fine, it’s not like there’s anything else for me to do other than talk to my cursed reflection.”

“What makes you think I’m the reflection? For all our Lazarus filled body knows you’re the fake.” 

“I might be going insane but I know for a fact I’m real; the guilt I’m feeling reassures me.” He explains to his counterpart’s sly grin. 

“Fair.” The other replies condescending and wow is that what he sounds like? He needs to cut that out… that’s a lie; he’s never going to stop. “Don’t look so down. This situation is kilometers better than the last time we were exposed to madness. Just be grateful we came out of it on our birthday.”

“-Tt- You mean the worst day of my life?” Damian hisses turning away from them but discovers that his reflection simply appears in whatever direction he’s looking at. 

His other releases a hideously loud laugh filled with an obnoxious delight. “HA! Worst day of your life. That’s how you’re going to categorize the day you met your father and only friend?”

If this wasn’t some self-hating delusion in his head Damian would have killed himself already just to escape this Hell. “It was the start of all of my problems.” 

“And here I thought I was the negative one.”

“We’re both the negative ones.” Damian points out dejectedly. 

“Oops, you got me there.” The mirror chuckles in a comical tone.

Fed up with the direction this conversation is going, Damian stands up and marches down the hall doing his best to look straight ahead at the darkness of the empty corridor. “You know what, I hate this. This entire thing was a mistake and I am leaving!”

“There you go, running away again.” The other Damian exhales as it stands up and easily keeps pace with him with his hands leisurely behind his back. 

“I’m not falling for this! Anything you have to say is something I already know!” Damian shouts as she lengthens his strides in a futile attempt to escape. “What, you’re going to try getting on my nerves by telling me how I’m a failure? What about telling me that my father doesn’t love me because I’m a bastard child he never wanted? I know, you’re going to tell me that my mother doesn’t really love me because all she wants is power!”

“Don’t forget our grandfather never being satisfied with our accomplishments.” The reflection adds unhelpfully as it appears on the floor in front of him casually using its fingers to smear blood on the surface of the glass.

“I killed a kingdom for that man and yet I still need to prove myself! Nothing I do is ever good enough! God, I’m starting to feel like Mara.” Damian groans, throwing his head back.

That sentence was too much even for himself to comprehend as the reflection stops walking, but still follows him, and stares at him incredulously. “Woah, let’s draw the line right there. We are better than Mara.” 

Good to know that he hasn’t completely lost his mind. “-Tt- At least I still have some standards.”

It was around this point Damian saw the literal light at the end of the tunnel and briskly walks towards it with the hope it’ll take him to a less annoying part of his mind the horrid chemicals he was bathed in created. Seeing Damian’s desperation his reflection smiles sinisterly glancing its toxic green eyes forward. “Mmmm, are you positive what you’ll find at the end of this path is better than talking to me? I don’t understand why you’re so desperate to escape me, we spend so much time together already. What's the harm in a bit more personal time? Besides, even if you escape me now I’ll always be in your head. I’m you.”

“Yes, yes, I know.” The child groans anxiously tugging at the collar of his emerald bow tie- wait. “What in the world?” He mutters finding himself in the velvet suit his father forced him to wear during his birthday gala. “What kind of games are you playing with me now?”

“I’m not playing any sort of games.” The floor answers cunningly. “I simply think you need to be looking at your best.”

“My best is my fighting robes,” Damian growls in response.

He’s promptly tsked at and his doppelganger irritatingly wags his finger at Damian. “That won’t be required for this.”

“For what?” He asks cautiously as he finally gets to the end of this godforsaken hallway.

“Hi, Dami!”

Jeweled eyes widen at the bright voice in front of him and he breaks eye contact with his reflection on the floor to see another mirrored wall in front of him. Instead of the dark background, the plane was lit a vivid sky blue while a demented version of Jonathan stands parallel to him with glowing red eyes. Damian quickly glances down to find his own bloody reflection ginning at him like a madman and he rudely questions, “What the Hell is this?” 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Don’t play stupid with me, I’m talking about this horribly inaccurate conception of the dumbest person we know.” He hollers, stabbing his pointer finger at the brightly lit wall where Jon’s face was only to have the fake Jon giggle. 

“Hahaha! That tickles!” It says cheerfully. “My turn!” The reflection sticks it’s hand out and instead of hitting the transparent surface between them the arm phases through the wall to bop him on the nose.

“What the-”

“You thought you were safe from him just because we’re trapped in the walls of your mind?” His own reflection laughs. “Even in your head Jonathan has a way of breaking your conception of reality.”

“This is clearly not him. The pit must’ve messed with my mind more than I thought; his eyes aren’t even the right color!” 

“You forget that nothing in here is real. Not you, not me, and not him. Each one of us is a creation of your own narrow imagination and if something is wrong with it that is your fault.” 

“My fault? What, next you’re going to show me a horrid imitation of my family because I have buried issues with them?”

“Eeeehhh, ” His reflection shrugs. “Take my advice and don’t head the other direction.”

Damian doesn’t have to be told twice; He’ll take a deranged Jonathan over his entire family spouting their disappointment in him any day. “Noted. I can only deal with so much stress.”

“I know.”

“Are you going to keep ignoring me?” The fake Jonathan huffs crossing his arms and tapping his foot impatiently. “I can’t believe this! You already don’t listen to me enough as it is but ignoring me?”

Feeling a headache begins to form Damian circles the temples of his head. “-Tt- Jonathan, do you mind? I’m trying to scold myself.”

“What? That doesn’t even make sense. There’s no one in here besides you and me!”

“He’s right here!” He describes pointing at the ground only to find that his reflection was just that, a reflection of himself. Bloodless, sad, and wearing the godawful emerald lined suit. “-Tt- Coward.”

“Dami,” Jonathan sighs empathetically, walking out of the bright blue wall with his arms stretched out in front of him. “You shouldn’t be so hard on yourself. Don’t you know that I think you’re wonderful?”

Damian jumps back away from the impending hug causing the fake Jonathan to embrace nothing. The ten-year-old glares at the child who escaped the mirrors around them and attempts to violently push him back while commanding, “You get back in there right now! I cannot have you out here running amuck!” 

Because his mind hates him the fake Jon doesn’t phase back into the walls and instead hits it like a solid surface. “Ow! Dami it hurts!”

“What do you mean it hurts?! You’re not real and even if you were you’re invincible!” He yells as he continues to shove Jonathan back into the recesses of his mind. Unfortunately, the child begins to cry at his actions, and to Damian’s horror, Jon’s fair skin begins to bruise purple where he touches. Instantly he flinches back at the sight and releases him. For a moment the Arabic child forgets that Jon isn’t real and feels the need to comfort him. “Jonathan, no- please stop crying. I didn’t mean to hurt you, I love you.” He touches the younger boy’s arms, and even though he didn’t put any pressure or strength into it, the area where his tan fingers touch instantly begins to turn black and blue. “What?” 

“It hurts!” Jon sobs clutching his arm close to his chest as tears continually fall from his red eyes. “Stop it! Stop hurting me!”

“I didn’t mean to! Jon, I’m sorry!” He starts to plead before he comes back to his senses. “Wait, what am I doing? This isn’t real! You’re not real!”

As soon as the words leave his lips the wounds on the fake Jonathan’s skin fade away but the illusion continues to cry, “How could you say that? You promised not to hurt me-”

“Shut up.” Damian cuts off with his hand on his side definitely. “This is clearly my subconscious’ way to deal with the guilt I feel for everything I’ve ever done to you.”

“Dami-”

“I SAID SHUT UP!” He orders, successfully silencing the emotionally damaged seven-year-old he’s created. “I must be borderline masochistic for the amount of trouble I’m causing myself.”

“What does mas-- mas-chic-tic mean?”

Emerald eyes roll annoyed at the accuracy this Jonathan asks the question. “This is exactly what I’m talking about. Every inch of you is just my skewed perception of Jonathan created to make me feel terrible!” With a burst of energy from within, he harshly shoves the doppelganger back against the wall. “Well too bad! There is no reason for me to feel guilty! I know what I did was for the best and I don’t care if you wanted it or not! You’ll thank me in the long run! I have wronged you in the past and now you come in here and try to reopen the wounds we already closed? I have some news for you, it doesn’t matter. I know what I did will hurt you, but I made the choice I know you couldn’t; I left for your own good! Your infatuation with me will disappear and soon enough I’ll just be another painful memory in that rotating door you call an attention span!

“Here is what’s going to happen. You, the real you, will be depressed about my absence for a short while. You will eventually move one because you have a family who loves you and expects nothing from you because they love you without any strings. You have the ability to gain friends at an alarming rate! Do you know how hard it was to keep people away from you when I needed to isolate you for my own gain? It was the most bothersome experience of my life because people are drawn to your positivity like a moth to a flame! You will regain your old best friend because you’re a forgiving sap and play your stupid games with them. You’ll make a support system without me and continue to go to therapy to cope with whatever the Hell is wrong with you! Then you’ll grow up and become a superhero because you have no fear for consequence! You’ll continue your path to greatness while I stay here and fulfill my own destiny.”

The entire time Damian ranted Jonathan slowly began to smile at him, tears drying gradually, and stared at him with a twisted loving gaze that spoke of utter devotion. “Oh Dami, you’re so smart but also really stupid.” Damian clicks his tongue in irritation but doesn’t speak to allow Jonathan to continue. “Your plans for me never work out. What makes you think I’m not going to come for you?”

“The entirety of the Indian Ocean and your parents.” Damian scoffs in reply. 

Jonathan brushes some of his black hair out of his face before tilting his head to cup his own cheek. “ _Dami~_ , there’s no need to be scared of me. You know I love you so very much.” 

Instinctively Damian takes a step back. “That is exactly why you should stay away from me. The love you give is all-consuming and forgiving in an unhealthy way.”

“Are you saying that because you truly feel that way, or because it’s you who I love?”

“Both. Your love means nothing because you love everyone.” He tells Jon as the reflection continues to stare in his soul. “Gods, why couldn’t this madness manifest in another murder spree. At least those are quicker.”

“Don’t say that Dami.” Jon chastises. “I love you Dami and nothing is going to change that. All you’re doing is postponing the inevitable.”

“Okay, I know for a fact you’re not an accurate depiction of Jonathan because he would never phrase his sentences like that.” Damian huffs as he weighs the option of running the opposite direction and confronting his entire family instead. 

Crack!

At the sound of breaking glass, Damian notices the wall behind Jonathan slowly shattering. The pieces land to the floor below revealing the black void hidden underneath. He looks back to Jonathan to see that the child didn’t even flinch at the collapsing world behind him.

“Dami, being back here won’t make you happy. You miss me as much as I miss you.”

CRACK!

“My love is already part of you and you won’t be able to live without me; just like how you made it so I couldn’t live without you.”

 **CRACK**!

Damian woke up seeing green. 

He knew this color well as it was the same unnatural shade that paints the waters of the Lazarus Pit. His vision clears up and soon he is able to take the shapes outside his glass prison which appears to have a large crack on the front. Damian instinctively looks down at the palm of his right hand to find that it was heavily bruised, but thanks to his surroundings it healed quickly. 

Seconds after he gained consciousness a blaring alarm rings off of metal walls and a red light flashes above him. The liquid he’s bathed in drains down through the steel grate beneath him causing his body to float down to the ground. The moment his feet touches the floor he is immediately accosted by his family’s faithful attendants who quickly dislodge him from the medical equipment on his person and cleans him off before dressing him in one of his many fine silks. 

One he was pampered and dressed to the League's standards, one of his many katanas was placed in his hands with much ceremony. It wasn’t his favorite one as it is still in the hands of Grayson back in Gotham. The unfortunate servant who had the audacity to hand Damian this bland knelt in front of him with their head hung low, expecting the gesture to be enough of an apology for failing him.

Damian didn’t hesitate to grant them the mercy of ending their pitiful existence by beheading them on the spot. 

The other servants around applaud his swift execution, but all the young heir felt was emptiness and regret. He shouldn’t be feeling this way because he did what he was supposed to do. If that’s the case why does he only envision his father’s disappointed expression?

“My son,” He hears the voice he longed to hear since the day she left him behind say. “Welcome home. I worried your father has caused weakness in you after that pitiful performance in Blüdhaven, but I see now you are still my perfect heir.”

The words were what he wanted to hear but that emptiness wouldn’t disappear and is now laced with genuine fear. “Mother, I-”

“Shhh…” Talia silences as Damian hears her heels click closer from behind him. Her slender fingers graze the side of his head that once housed a large scar from the motorcycle crash. The fingers tail downward to his chin and snap his head in the direction of his mother to he could stare into her expresso colored eyes. “This entire ordeal caused you much grief. Come.”

Without a second to waste, she lets go of Damian and he sees that she is still dressed in her black nightgown. The woman must’ve come running in without time to prepare as he’s never had the opportunity to view his mother so unkempt. Damian follows behind her at a respectable pace though the intricate black marble hallways until they reach his mother’s chambers. She holds the door open for her son and once the two are inside her bedroom she sits down at the foot of her large bed. 

Damian doesn’t dare come any closer and obediently stays himself at the entrance of her room. He’s already shamed his family enough, he doesn’t need to disrespect his mother on top of it. Seeing his hesitance Talia pats the space next to her and the ten-year-old tots up to her and climbs the mattress until he is next to his mother, but doesn’t overstep his boundaries. 

“Tell me my son,” The daughter of the demon’s head starts softly. “What did you learn while at your father’s?”

He knew that his day of reckoning would come but it was still too soon. He never became Robin therefore he never trained under Batman. Damian’s mother is going to believe that he’s a complete failure and disown him. The child swallows the lump that suddenly developed in his throat before mustering his courage to speak confidently. He might be a failure, but he’s still an Al-Ghul. “Father refused to teach me.”

“Mmm, I’m aware your father has failed you Damian but that was not what I asked. What did you learn while living with him?”

Father… Did Father fail him? The thought didn’t cross the boy’s mind even once because this entire time he believed that he was the one who wasn’t able to overcome the trials set before him. With this new piece of information, Damian takes a few moments to readjust his mindset so that he may properly answer his mother. It was in this new light that the ten-year-old realized that in his short time living under his Father he learned many things that didn’t relate to combat or espionage. 

He’s been to places he’s never imagined.

He’s met people with unimaginable powers.

He’s experienced things no one in his family ever has before.

And he felt things he didn’t think possible.

“How freely may I speak, Mother?” Damian inquires before he tells his mother everything he’s acquired over his time away from his home.

Talia brushes a loose hair out of her son’s face as she contemplates the question. “My son, you may speak as free as you deem necessary.”

The child stops himself from leaning into the touch as he speaks the truth. “First of all the school system is complete trash!”

It was like the flood gate opened. For the next three hours, Damian proceeds to confess anything and everything that wronged him during the past three months of Damian’s personal circle of Hell. He talks about his father’s other so-called children, how terrible galas were, why he will make sure to find Sesame Street and burn it to the ground, how the end of Monk-E-Monsters season three should have been illegal, how the Gray Ghost is just an okay show, that damned back sassing butler, why Damian needs an army of attack hounds because they are all good boys, the failure of the American legal system, the failure of the American education, the entirety of the United States should just be blown to kingdom come, how fifth-grade is full of complete morons, the strategic downfalls of kickball, the fact that Roulette needs to be added to the League’s kill on sight list-

“Damian, that woman has already been taken care of.” His mother interrupts in the middle of his rant about how she used him.

This new piece of information shocks him and he openly gapes at his mother before regaining his composure. “Really now? I guess that saves me time.”

“It saves all of us time.” Talia agrees as she nods her head. “Unfortunately a rather expensive and skilled mercenary took her out.”

“It wasn’t one of our own, Mother?”

She shakes her head as she brushes her long hair to her right shoulder. “The child of Superman hired him before we could even get to Roulette.”

Wait.

WHAT.

“Do not worry my son, continue speaking about your time,” Talia commands her stunned child. “Son?”

“JONATHAN, DID WHAT!?” Damian hollers standing to his feet to pace around his mother’s chambers with his fingers knotted in his hair. “Jonathan! The boy who has trouble throwing a proper punch and using weak insults hired a mercenary!? Who was it! What assassins besides me would he even have access too!?”

Bemused by the eruption the heiress answers, “Slade Wilson.” 

“DEATHSTROKE!?” He repeats on the verge of a full aneurysm. “Jonathan Samuel Kent managed to pay Deathstroke to kill Roulette! The moron could barely afford a piece of gum let alone the millions it would take to hire a man for such a task. How did he pay?”

“He paid him with a favor, though I am not sure what it entails.” 

There are few things in this world that can truly break Damian Al-Ghul, but as always Jonathan is the exception. “HE DID WHAT!?” Hastily the boy in green sprints over to the door and swings it open fully intending to pilot one of the League’s planes to Metropolis himself when he feels his mother’s nails roughly dig into his shoulders.

“Damian, cease this foolishness at once.” She orders with a cold voice that instantly stops him in his tracks.

Shame blooms from inside Damian’s chest from having shown his mother such a weak display and he goes to rectify his disrespect by kneeling in front of her with his head down. “Apologies Mother, for I have lost myself in your presence.”

Talia doesn’t immediately reply to her son and instead stares down at him with an analytical gaze. After the lifeless beat of silence, she manually raises her child’s head by yanking his hair and forces him to look her in the eyes. “My son, you truly do take after your mother.” Damian doesn’t understand what she’s talking about but she leads him back to the bed to explain.

After fixing her son’s thick black hair she sits him in her lap, something Damian never recalls his mother doing, and holds him close. It was almost a hug but she only used one arm to embrace him while her hand ran through his locks. The action was so gentle he didn’t know if he was allowed to lose himself in the touch of the only person he didn’t feel physically disgusted by. 

“Mother,” He calls out in a small voice. “What do you mean? You are so much better than me.”

“My son, my perfect child.” Talia coos sweetly. “I made you in my image, but it is I who have failed you.”

“Do not say such things.” He pleads the woman looking up at her forlorn expression. “Mother, you are wonderful; there is no way you could fail me. If you feel that way then it is I who has failed you.”

She smiles sadly at the child in her arms while she continues to monotonous stroke his hair. “Damian, there are few people in this world I love and you are one of them. Love makes you feel like there is nothing else in the world that matters. It also comes in different forms because love is not just one emotion to describe a singular feeling of the heart.”

“But didn’t you say emotions were for the weak; that they must be controlled and kept inside?”

“That is indeed true but I also told you that there are exceptions. Rage, hatred, vengeance are the emotions you must keep close to your heart and weaponize. You have done well in that aspect, but for so long I have failed to teach you the other emotion that is the most powerful: Love.” Talia explains in a fondness Damian couldn’t quite pin down. “We want to see the world burn my son, to set everything to ash and like a phoenix raise it back up in our image. Rage helps us get rid of those who oppose us, yet when all is said and done we must think about the world we create. If we fill it full of hatred then our cause was for naught. That is where love comes in and why Father ensures his people are treated better. It is also why he’s allowed his children and grandchildren to live in the palace; because of love. 

“It is why he doesn’t oppose us loving others like I love your father, my beloved. Love is also dangerous because it forces us to rationalize the irrational. For so long I tried to do everything in my power to persuade your father to abandon his goals and join us to be one complete family. Doesn’t that sound marvelous?” 

Damian nods in agreement as he imagines a world his mother and father live together raising him. “It does, Mother.”

“I’m sorry I couldn’t give you that life, for love has blinded my younger self into believing that I could convince the most stubborn man in the world to come to his senses. I believed you could bring us together as one family, but it’s clear your Father doesn’t love either of us enough for such fantasies.”

“Does he not think we are worth it, Mother?” Damian asks in a moment of fragility as he tries to push down the thought of a happy family as Jonathan has; Where both of his parents are together and love him. “Why does he love to protect that damned city rather than us?”

She sighs wistfully answering, “That is a question even I cannot answer. The reason I bring up such painful realities is that you have found yourself fallen victim to love. I’ve been watching you Damian and I see that you have found solace in that companion of yours; a partner in crime so to speak. I watch you make the same mistakes I made when I was still a girl. You have two options Damian: You must either let go and resolve that this boy will now forever be your enemy, or force him to your side as an equal by any means necessary.”

“My enemy?” He repeats perplexedly. Damian knew that coming back home meant that he wouldn’t be able to be friends with Jonathan anymore but to become his enemy? The thought never even crossed his mind. 

“Yes. You know who that boy’s father is and he also opposes the League as much as your father does. In time, without interference, he will become our enemy.” Talia states firmly with a resolve that makes her feared by many. “Damian, you must choose what side you stand on and you must do it faster than I did. I will not allow you to make the same mistake as I because that is what a mother is supposed to do.”

“I…” He couldn’t choose. He didn’t want this.

A tap on his chest over his shirt reveals a metal device embedded next to his heart, keeping blood flowing through his body. He looks at his mother’s finger tapping on the device as she smiles down at him. “My son, you do not have to make this decision now. When the time is right you will show your resolve by taking this off. Enemy or ally is your only option, Damian. Fret not because no matter the choice there are others in the world who will be lured by your excellence and soon enough you will have your own team not only obedient by the fear you until but the love you graciously bestow upon them. Do what I could not.”

“Mother I-”

“Shhhh…” Talia shushes with a finger resting on her son’s chapped lips. “Let the lesson settle. You will have enough time to tell me your answer in the future, but for now, why don’t you recount your time in the states? I was informed that you won something called a ‘family picnic.’ Why don’t you tell me how you conquered your opponents?”

And Damian does tell her in an eager way only a child could accomplish when talking to his mother. He might’ve embellished some details and left others out, however, the most important part is that his mother wants to talk to him without it being a report. He’s still not over the delight of sitting in her lap as she listens to him speak, but it is something that makes him feel like he didn’t fail her. For the first time ever he feels his mother care for him without expecting anything in return. If only the two of them could be stuck in this moment till the end of time.

Sadly tomorrow Damian’s life will go back to normal, his normal, and as heir to the Demon’s Head, he needs to continue his duties to their fullest. His life as a Wayne is over and his legacy of being an Al-Ghul continues. His decisions and feelings could wait for another time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Damian is not okay and it's my fault. \\(￣︶￣*\\)) He's got some really skewed perceptions of people and the world around him. That's what happens when you raise child assassins. 
> 
> Talia al-Ghul is... an interesting character as I did not know much about her even before writing this fic. I read some comics with her in it and watched the cartoon where she sometimes shows up. So when I decided that I should probably read more about her I got... let's just say I'm not a fan. She is a terrible mother at best. Like, she has some moments of humanity and motherliness depending on the writer but holy fuck guys.
> 
> In other news, Damian is back and on his island adventure! (The worst kind) Join us next time where we'll meet the rest of the al-Ghuls and get a peek into his life. Will he fit right back in? What tasks must he do? What will Damian choose to do? All will be answered next chapter cause I hate three parters.
> 
> Thank you for reading, commenting, Kudos, or just clicking by accident! We're at over 5000 hits and I'm so happy! It might not seem like a lot to some people on a long fic but this is the first time I've done something like this so holy shit this is great!


	28. Endless Fantasy (Part 2)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Damian is home and all is as it should be.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Schooooool sucks! I hate Zoom, and I love writing so here y'all go! This chapter was fun to write and I hope y'all let me know if you like it too! Everyone is so busy now that the academic year started and I hope you guys enjoy the updates as much as I enjoy making them!
> 
> Thank you to everybody who read the last chapter and this entire story so far cause let me tell you we are almost at the halfway point. Yeah, over 270k words and we are just NOW getting there. If you hate long stories then I'm sorry I didn't intend for it to be this long but I'm here and not gonna stop!

The first week Damian awoke from his bed after coming home the first thing he noticed is that everything was eerily quiet. There was no shouting down the hall from Todd trying to wake up Drake for school, no Grayson fumbling through the kitchen cabinets for the hidden marshmallow so boisterously the sound traveled to his room, no Cain knocking on his door to make sure Damian wasn’t awake training, and no curt but polite greeting from his father as he patrols the halls. The heir is greeted by complete and utter silence.

Damian should be grateful for the peace he was missing living with his father. This yearning for the insanity of the Wayne manor is just his mind trying to readjust to life on Infinity Island. What the Demon’s Son is experiencing at this moment, in the time just before the sun rose, is true peace. This is how his life should greet him; with a clarity that matches his mindset. Nothing shall ruin his morning for the ten-year-old is a master of his home and his life!

The boy gets up from his bed wrinkling the fine jade silk and Egyptian cotton sheets beneath him as he dresses in his traditional emerald robes. He fixes himself in the mirror only mildly noting the radiant green glow they still take from his bath in the Lazarus Pit. Momentarily Damian presses a flat palm on his chest where the device was made to keep Jonathan’s ears away but doesn’t dare linger on such foolish thoughts as he rids himself of them. Turning away from his dresser’s mirror the assassin moves to his personal armory and picks out his most elegant scimitar to attach to his hip. He doesn’t dare take out his favored weapon, the katana, as they do not compare to the one he left behind. 

Once he finds himself presentable Damian leaves his room to travel through the barren halls of the palace where he servants bow after being graced with his presence. The boy has to stop himself from releasing a snort from his throat as it reminds him of a prince being gawked by his subjects. Maybe Jonathan was right when calling him royalty.

He stops himself the instant the thought crosses his mind then walks stoically wholly devoid of emotion. His path should not be marred by a life that was never his to begin with. The Damian who spent his time thinking about his friend is over. His father has failed to prove to his son that the life he showed is worth living and now Damian must put his all into his current mission and train the Demon’s Fist as his grandfather requested of him. This is his official first day back as heir after rehabilitation meaning there should be no room for failure.

“Hafid.” A familiar voice that grates on Damian’s nerves states.

With the most audible sigh he could muster Damian turns around to meet his _delightful_ cousin and smirks at the terrible scar he left on her face during their last battle. “Ah, Mara! I was getting worried you were feeling unwell. How else will the livestock know it’s morning if the rooster doesn’t start crowing?”

“Your time in the outside world has done no favors for your maturity. Tell me, how does it feel to know that your family doesn’t love you?”

“I wouldn’t know, I’m not you.” 

The young girl bristles at the comment and pulls the red streak in her hair in agitation. “Argh! You’re such a brat!”

While Damian dislikes his cousin greatly but after his time away from home he couldn’t help but feel sorry for her. The boy didn’t know whether it was pity or empathy, but trading spiteful jibes with Mara didn’t bring him the same joy as it used to. He still feels a sensation of pride when he gets under the girl’s skin but it’s not the victory and respite it once brought him. He doesn’t see a rival or an annoying vexation to be dealt with but a little girl doing her best.

Damian didn’t know what insanity took over his body at this moment, it causes him to ask Mara, “Are you okay?”

She stops her screeching and stares at him incredulously as her scarred fingers untangle themselves from her locks. “Am I okay? OF COURSE I’M NOT OKAY! You are trying to throw me off with false notions of my wellbeing, aren’t you! Horrid mistake cousin because we’ve danced this dance before and I will not be tricked again!”

“Mara-” He begins to say then remembers this isn’t the kind of person he is. “I only ask because your appearance is more grotesque than usual. It’s already a shame we share the same family name. I do not want to be associated with a chicken.” Damian excuses pointing at his cousin’s untamed mane. 

“I hate you!” Mara hollers turning away from him to her training grounds.

“Happy to hear… it,” Damian replies remarking how wrong the sentence feels on his tongue. It doesn’t have the same punch it used to.

The girl glares her green and pink eyes at him over her shoulder and tells him, “Just you wait, Hafid! Talia has assigned me the task of training her agents and soon enough they will blow you and your stupid team out of the water!” 

Gods, Damian hates that girl. 

His mood is slightly more sour than when he first awoke, although that doesn’t hinder his motivation in the least. The heir must admit that he is curious about what task his mother bestowed upon his inferior cousin, yet he knows better than to question her about it. He decides will stop by later in the week to evaluate his cousin and discover what she is talking about. For now, he must train the soldiers he’s been given.

After traversing through the immense winding paths of the estate Damian makes it to the training hall where he is greeted by his student’s kneeling patiently for him at the doorway. The child doesn’t acknowledge them as he opens the gate to their personal training room and heads inside expecting them to follow. Predictably they do.

On a small raised platform of rock in the center of the area, Damian sets his sword down and climbs up before turning around to look at his team. Though they have moved into the room they didn’t dare raise their heads in his presence without acknowledgment. Everything is how it should be; people were meant to worship the ground Damian walked on, so why is it that he feels so wrong?

“-Tt- Lift your heads up.” He orders and the four members of the Demon’s Fist do as he commands. “Now let me evaluate how you have done in my absence.” 

Instantly all four students attack, making Damian sprint out of the way of a gust of wind aimed in his direction. The stone platform he stood upon crumbles causing him to leap off the thing entirely. The second he hits the ground a large green fist hurls towards his face while a white bat attempts to blind him. It was at that moment Damian felt immense disappointment in his pupils and the horrid realization that the teenagers he was fighting are also children. Damian never even thought of categorizing them as such but aren’t they all children?

Damian brings his middle and pointer fingers together to stab into the shapeshifter above him and the green man in front of him, immediately rendering them both motionless after having their pressure points impacted. Using some of the loose gravel from the destroyed platform the ten-year-old hurls it at his pale blonde student who easily evades it. Unfortunately for her, had her eyes off of him long enough for him land a good hit on her covered sternum rendering her winded. 

Nightstorm would be the hardest to defeat in single combat without a weapon in hand, but he is best suited for long-ranged combat while Damian is the master of melee fighting. The young assassin picks up the girl still trying to catch her breath on the floor by the feet, taking caution of her deadly white skin, and hurls her in the direction of the windblast. Startled by his teammate’s body being flung at him, Nightstorm strengthens his attack to move her away from him. In the process, a flat palm chops the back of his neck shocking his body into temporary paralysis.

“Disappointments, all of you!” Damian shouts, stepping over each of the four-member of the Demon’s Fist. “Has my impromptu leave turn you all into uncoordinated bumbling buffoons? Not once did I have to draw my blade. All of you rely on your powers too much!” 

“A-a-apologise Master Al-Ghul,” The man whose face is covered in red cloth, Blank, regrets. “We shall rectify this problem right away.”

“Fools, if that was the case you would have already done so.” He waves off casually not feeling the vindictiveness to punish them further. Maybe he’s still tired from his time in Gotham, but he doesn’t feel the fire he used to improve others to be trained killers. “You’re all useless.”

The pleas for mercy and forgiveness start echoing throughout his students and Damian ignores them as he thinks about ways to fix his dower mood and his disciples. That’s when he strikes an epiphany that might be able to solve both of his problems. He raises his hand to silence his teammates and gives them a smile that could kill. “I shall train you to improve your prowess without being handicapped by your own abilities. During this exercise, I demand none of you to use your powers and rely solely upon your training as lethal assassins.”

“Of course Master Al-Ghul.” The blonde girl with red face paint, Plague, says lifting her head off the floor. “We will do anything.”

“Good.” Damian’s grin grows wider as he moves over to the supply closet to grab her a set of gloves so that his student may cover her deadly hands. After tossing her the gloves he orders all of his students to put away any weapons they are carrying. Once that is finished he asks all of his students, “Do any of you know how to play ‘Tag?’”

Mara Al-Ghul was in the process of teaching an army of children, literal elementary schoolers, how to become assassins for her aunt. She was determined to impress her family with her skills so that she will be given more opportunities to prove her worth and show why she should be the heir to her grandfather’s legacy! She was the one raised by Ra’s, not Hafid! She doesn’t know why Talia requested these children to be trained, but she knows better than to question the League if it is not in her best interest.

“Remember the first rule of the Order!”

“No hesitation!” They reply simultaneously and a swell of pride blossoms from within her. 

The group determinedly practices their katas under her scrutinizing gaze when Mara hears the sounds of footsteps approaching her area at an alarming pace. A slew of thoughts run through her head in that moment of what is coming: Was it a servant coming to warn her of urgent news? An enemy assassin? Or was it something worse?

Her answer came in the form of her terrible cousin bursting through the doors and Mara’s first thought was, “Has he come to challenge me and test my student’s skills?!” She wasn’t ready for such a task as she still had so much to prepare for! This is the worst thing that could have happened to her because if that wretched Hafid were to see the state her students were in she’ll never live it down-

“SCATTER!” Damian shouts as the Demon’s fist trample in from behind as they run away from one of their own members, the teen wearing a mask with weather powers. 

Wait, what?

Mara’s students all stop their movements angering her to no end, but it doesn’t begin to overshadow the utter confusion of the scene happening in front of her. The Demon’s Fist ran from their compatriots as though their lives depended on it and then the green man with stone skin, uncreatively named Stone, furthers her confusion but shouting, “The ground is lava!”

Each of the intruders hops off the floor onto various wall and ceiling furnishings with dread and anger on their faces as the shapeshifter shouts back, “You can’t do that now! There’s too much stuff for him to climb on!”

“Too bad, the ground is lava now and we all have to work with it!” Damian hollers back as he swings away on the light fixtures. 

“Master Al-Ghul, I want to have the lava powers next round!” Plague demands in a whine as she follows her leader’s actions.

“Hafid!” Mara shouts as some of her students have also confusingly gotten off the ground for whatever reason she couldn’t comprehend. “What is the meaning of this nonsense!?”

“The ground is lava.” He answers flippantly looking completely ridiculous while he hugs a chandelier. 

Dual colored eyes look at the floor beneath her feet that is obviously not molten in any way shape or form. “What.”

“This exercise is clearly too complex for your feeble mind, Mara.” Damian teases as he narrowly avoids getting touched by Nightstorm. 

“What is happening?” The girl asks aloud as she pulls out her short swords fully willing to cut her cousin down.

One of her brave disciples, a child that couldn’t be older than 5, perched on one of the weapon storage units reveals, “They’re playing tag and the floor is lava.” The description doesn’t help her in the slightest and she commands the boy to explain in greater detail. “It’s a game. One person it ‘it’ and they have to tag other people so they can be ‘it’ instead. The floor is lava means that no one is allowed to touch the ground or they lose.”

It’s at this point Damian recognizes the disciples Mara is in charge of and his face scrunches at the sight. “Children?” 

“Oh no, he got Plague!” Stone cries as Nightstorm taps their companion on the back of the leg. 

“Sister no!” Blank shouts as his sibling is caught and is now the dreaded ‘it’.

And just like that everyone’s alliances shift. The female with the deceased touch is now everyone’s enemy and they all scramble over cabinets and lights to escape their new predator. Before they could leave the training room Damian holds up his hand, stopping the exercise, and walks up to Mara stoically. “Cousin, would you and your class like to join us?”

This must be some sort of superiority tactic designed to throw her off and show that she is a failure. That must be the case! Her cousin is trying to ruin her by proving her students cannot best his team in a simple evasion exercise meant to mimic outrageous conditions! She’ll show him! Little does Hafid know, Mara’s instilled superior stealth into each of her lessons!

With a cunning smile the assassin sheths her blades and puts on her most civil voice. “Why of course. We would be honored to upstage you.” She turns to her students and informs them of their change in priorities. “Everyone! Put down your weapons and follow their lead. If any of you find yourselves tagged there will be consequences!”

“Don’t forget to have fun!” Damian hollers and he runs out of the training room before he is able the complete chaos he’s left in his wake. 

“What is that supposed to mean- Aaaah!” He hears Mara scream along with the commotion only a busload of children could cause. 

That should keep everyone busy for at least an hour while he goes check on more important issues that require his attention. Damian briskly makes his way to the other side of the palace and down a seemingly endless spiral staircase that is lit by dim torches on the walls. Once he reaches the cavernous bottom he traverses through the rocky path until he reaches running water and a large metal vault. 

Guarding the structure with his life is none other than a humble blind elderly gentleman dressed in desaturated purple and blue cotton robes. At the sounds of Damian’s footsteps, the man bows his head in the heir’s direction with an elated smile upon his wrinkled features. “Master Damian, you’ve returned!” 

“Ravi,” The boy greets doing his best to not let guilt eat through his words as he always does. “I am here to check on my beloved Goliath.”

“Of course,” Ravi replies graciously as he turns around and begins the process of unlocking the metal barrier for his master. 

Damian couldn’t stop himself and almost like a compulsion he blurts out, “I’m sorry.”

The older bald man doesn’t stop his ministrations on the locks while he answers, “There is nothing for you to apologize for Master Damian.”

That was wrong, he has so much to apologize for, but apologies to servants are something that is above an Al-Ghul. “You are right. I don’t know what came over me.”

“Do not fret Master Damian. Your travels are still taking their toll on your body.” 

“Yes, that must be it.” He agrees as the doors open.

Damian strides inside the barren cavern filled with hanging cages as he walks past the League’s collection of dangerous animals to his destination; his loyal companion. In the largest cage of them all sat a beast the color of freshly released blood, teeth the size of skulls, eyes that illuminate gold, expansive leathery wings, and ferocity unmatched laid his beloved Goliath. With his arms stretched out wide Damian’s comparatively small arms embraced the exceedingly fluffy creature and enveloping him in the soft red fur as the dragon bat purrs in his presence. 

“My beautiful wonderful magnificent Goliath! My only regret is leaving you behind!” He proclaims as its gigantic tongue licks the side of his face. Damian has a slough of remorses but Goliath is too precious to hear of them and Damian is too prideful to admit aloud. “Has Ravi taken good care of you in my absence?” 

Goliath paws the front of the child’s body and playfully and his wings spread out to prepare for liftoff. Quickly Damian orders him to retract his appendages and strokes his cheeks as compensation. “My dear Goliath, please be patient! We shall soon take the sky again but now is not that time.”

A pitiful whine that tugs at Damian’s unbeating heartstrings erupt from Goliath’s throat and the creature puts his head down on the ground, rattling the iron chain around its neck. The dragon bat looks up at him with beseeching eyes and Damian is forced to admit his weakness against adorable creatures. “Fine, we may fly however we must make it quick.” 

Almost an hour later Damian came back to where he left everyone in the massive game of tag he started to find Mara’s training room seemingly empty. Damian knew better than to assume his surroundings from a fleeting glance. The ten-year-old walks over to one of the closed weapon lockers to find his cousin huddled inside in the fetal position covering her head with his arms. His lips stretch along the width of his face in a snobbish sneer as he looks down at the girl smugly. “Mara, fitting I find you in here like the tool you are.”

Seeing that it was her cousin who found her she unfurls her arms from her scarred face and rolls her eyes at him. “Hafid.”

Damian sticks his hand out in a mocking effort to help the little girl off the floor. “While I love seeing on the ground like dirt I would implore you to stand up less you shame the Al-Ghul bloodline further.” 

She immediately slaps the hand out of her face and stands on her own accord. “Pathetic.”

“You said it, not me.”

“Urrrrrghh! You are so infuriating!” 

“And you have been bested by a child’s game.” Damian retorts as he goes back out to find their students before things could get out of control.

Eventually, the two of them were able to find all of their students. After the exercise, Damian proceeded to train his teammates with his usual methods of strict training and harsh punishments, yet found he didn’t need to enact the ladder as much as he usually required. The Demon’s Fist was significantly less stressed than they usually are. While Damian would like to say it was because they had fun it is more likely that he tired them out too early on causing them to not have the energy for such emotions. He couldn’t tell but he’d rather not risk being disappointed by either conclusion. 

Afterward, late into the night, Damian continued his own training in private. His time away from his home has dampened his skills and he can’t help but feel weak. His footwork was jagged, his swings faltering, and worst of all his grip on the handles of his weapons were shaky at best. The boy closed his glowing emerald eyes to help focus on his surroundings as he swung the blade of his sword in the emptiness of his mind. 

He must keep a clear head. Hesitation is the difference between victory and death. An Al-Ghul’s actions are always made with confidence because they are superior; he is superior. Damian could already feel the flow of his strike, the rhythm of the body, flow like an uninterrupted stream. His previous emotions must be swept to the side. The teachings of his father, of Batman, must be forgotten because Damian is a weapon who has no need for mercy. This reluctance, this nostalgia, that fills him when he thinks of his days living with the fam who failed him must be extinguished. 

The only lesson he needs to retain is the awfulness of the outside world and why he must strive to change it. Damian must continue his grandfather’s legacy and send the world ablaze so that he may build it back up in the perfect image. This is the desire of the League of Assassins. All his family has worked for over the years cannot be squandered because he was filled with weakness.

“It-it hurts-”

Repress it. Damian cannot afford to lose focus.

“D-dami I’m going to be fi-”

Repress! That fool is now an enemy. He is not here to cry. He is not here to judge. He is not here to hold him back with false notions of how Damian should live his life.

“R-Roo-Robin, st-stop!”

REPRESS! Damian is not Robin! He was never meant to be Robin! That imbecile Drake is Robin because he is also as much of a failure as his father! That is why his father isn’t with him and the League; because the man is a failure! He is a failure because he failed Damian!

“We need unconditional trust, love, and fun!”

Oh god fucking damn it!

In a moment of weakness, Damian opens his eyes and begins repeatedly stabbing into the nearest training dummy then moving on the next until he is satisfied. Too bad for the training dummies that he was never satisfied! He doesn’t like feeling how he’s feeling! It’s too much and he hates it!

He hates it! He hates it! He hates it! He hates it! He hates it! He hates it! He hates it! He hates it! He hates it! He hates it! He hates it! He hates it! He hates it! He hates it! He hates it! He hates it! He hates it! He hates it! He hates it! He hates it! He hates it! He hates it! He hates it! He hates it! He hates it! He hates it! He hates it! He hates it! He hates it! He hates it! He hates it! He hates it! He hates it! He hates it! He hates it! He hates it! He hates it! He hates it! He hates it! He hates it! He hates it! He hates it! He hates it! He hates it! He hates it! He hates it! He hates it! He hates it! He hates it! He hates it! He hates it! He hates it! He hates it! He hates it! He hates it! He hates it! He hates it! He hates it! He hates it! He hates it! He hates it! He hates it! He hates it! He hates it! He hates it! He hates it! He hates it! He hates it! HE HATES IT! HE HATES IT! HE HATES IT! HE HATES IT! HE HATES IT! HE HATES IT! HE HATES IT! HE HATES IT! HE HATES IT! HE HATES IT! HE HATES IT! HE HATES IT! HE HATES IT! HE HATES IT! HE HATES IT! HE HATES IT! HE HATES IT!

**_HE! HATES! IT!_ **

Hundreds of dismantled, butchered, and outright destroyed training dummies later Damian’s servants were scrambling to find more for him to slaughter. It wouldn’t be enough! It was never enough! Nothing would ever be good enough!

Damian was in the middle of ripping the arms off his current lifeless stuffed victim when the click of his mother’s heels entered his personal dojo. Talia squats down in her dark green leather mission clothing signaling to Damian that she just came back from an assignment as she stills his pulsating hand. “My son,” She begins but Damian cuts her off. 

“Mother, I understand I am being a fool but nothing I do will rid the weakness that Father has instilled into me.”

“I was going to say that you should have started with the legs.”

“Oh.” Damian stupidly says and slaps his forehead for making foolish assumptions. “Of course.”

“It is not an issue Love, from your performance I watched in that horrible ordeal Roulette put you through you still remain vigilant even when possessed. You did aim for the legs.” 

This is the worst thing ever. His own dear extraordinary mother is making fun of him and there is nothing Damian could do about it. “Mother, is there something you request of me?”

“Of course there is my son. I would not be seeing you if that were not the case.” Talia states as she stands herself and her son up from the floor. “But while I am here… I do not mind your desire for destruction and we can always afford more equipment, but your mind is unclear.”

“My mind is clear, Mother.” Damian declares as he drops the fake limb in his hand. “Weakness is beneath me. Everyone else outside of the League is our enemy and should be treated as such.”

The brunette nods thoughtfully then taps her nails on the boy’s chest. “If that were the case then why is this still on your person? Did you perhaps have trouble taking it off?”

He doesn’t answer choosing instead to look down at the hand quietly. Damian has made a decision and one for the better. Slowly he places his palm over his hand the device and he contemplates the drastic measures he took for something so insignificant. What does it matter if Jonathan hears him now that Damian has made a decision? He was merciful to him, giving the child the opportunity to live a better life without him. If Jonathan squanders the opportunity he has given him then that is not Damian’s fault. 

“Love,” Talia coos as she holds her son’s unknowingly trembling fingers. “Why are you so adamant about pushing your companion away? You have the chance to wield the greatest weapon not only on the planet but the universe. Are you not convinced with your ability to control him?” 

“I could if I wanted too.” He replies quickly to not expose his hesitation. 

“Then do you want to?”

No. 

The answer flashed in his head before any other thoughts could surface. He doesn’t want to control him, he doesn’t want to use him because Damian gave him his word. Unfortunately, Damian’s word is completely meaningless because he has already broken his promise because he promised that he wouldn’t hurt Jon. The younger child made it sound so easy! Jon makes it sound like Damian doesn’t ruin everything he touches when in actuality he’s a failure that doesn’t deserve anything good! That is why Jonathan must say away, that is why Damian has decided he shall be his enemy rather than his friend.

“I see you still need to think about this.” Damian’s mother tells him to turn around towards the door. “Now come with me, my son.”

Damian follows his mother out of the training wing of the palace and deep into the lower floors under the island’s many volcanoes. He always believed that his grandfather had a flair for the dramatic in everything the man did and seeing the dungeons only solidified Damian’s belief. For someone called the Demon’s head Ra’s Al-Ghul always made it a point to live by that name in mannerisms and aesthetics. The architect iron bars of the holding cells prove this point.

Speaking of the holding cells, Damian wonders if his mother meant to bring him to these parts for an emergency interrogation. The ten-year-old didn’t remember seeing such an event on his agenda then again there is no way to control when they capture every enemy in their path to glory. Sometimes there is an opportunity and the League of Assassins must seize it.

The two of them stop in front of one of the more secure cells and instinctively Damian puts his hand on the hilt of the scimitar on his belt. Everything was following procedure for a by the book interrogation: Bring a child, be underestimated, prove them wrong with horrific torture, get the information, kill the target. Easy.

“Damian?”

It was at this moment Damian swore to put God on his personal hit list because only an omniscient being would be able to put him in this situation. Before the child’s very eyes is none other than his father’s favorite charge, Dick Grayson. The man is in his Nightwing uniform, something Damian has a personal vendetta against thanks to Halloween, with his arms and legs bound to the floor. He is completely unharmed aside from a few bruises and doesn’t appear to be in any worse shape. The child concludes that he has only recently been captured, but that begs the question of his sudden appearance.

“Damian! You’re okay-!”

“Of course I’m okay you imbecile.” Damian retorts in the same way someone would at seeing a bug. “Has Father sent you in some misplaced intention to ‘save’ me from my own family?”

“What? Damian, please listen to me! Just come home-!”

“You will silence yourself at once!” Talia orders angrily, kicking her high heel through the bars to kick the vigilante in the face. “I only show you what you wanted out of respect for your mentor.”

Grayson spits out the blood accumulating in his mouth as his masked covered navy blue eyes glower at the Daughter of the Demon. “Respect? You know that’s not what you feel for him, don’t even try to fool yourself, Talia! After what you’ve done to him you should be lucky he even talks to you!”

“Mmm, one might say the same thing about yourself.” Talia laughs as she holds her son closer to her side. “You might’ve had a point if you didn’t take after him. Maybe Beloved really is your father for all you two share.”

“YOU BITCH-”

“Silence!” Damian commands as he repeats his mother’s actions and kicks the man’s face through the bars. “You shall not disrespect my mother with that vile tongue of yours you ignorant swine!” That seems to shut the man up for the time being as he doesn’t speak any more ill words. Satisfied with the compliance, emerald eyes look to his parent curiously. “Was my presence honestly required for something so insignificant?”

“My beloved son, I regret having to interrupt your training for something so minor but know that I always have my reasons.” She explains as she releases the boy from her grip while looking at Grayson. “You have now seen with your own eyes that Damian is just fine.”

“He’s better with us!” Grayson snarls back tugging on the chains holding him down.

Talia sighs and turns on her heel without gracing Nightwing with another response as she waves off the man’s concerns. “Damian, get this man to stop his squabbling and see reason. I do not want to warrant more of his kind invading our home needlessly.”

“Would you like me to kill him, Mother?” Damian eagerly inquires as he already begins to unsheathe his sword. 

“No, that will only bring your dear mother more trouble.”

Disappointed he wasn’t allowed to murder the person responsible for introducing him to Sesame Street he sighs and hides the weapon again. “Understood.” 

Damian looks down upon the skilled fighter on the floor with ire and confusion. He couldn’t separate the image of the silly man trying to get him to watch childish shows and the vigilante boring his eyes into Damian’s with a fierce determination. In the back of his mind, Damian is reminded of something Todd once told him; how a hero and their secret identity are two personas that couldn’t be seen together. This must be what he implied by that useless lecture. 

Exhaling harshly through his nose, Damian asks, “Why are you here Grayson?”

“Names.” The spandex-clad vigilante retorts on reflex. 

“Nightwing. Why are you here, Nightwing?” He corrects begrudgingly. If there was one thing his Father taught him it was the importance of codenames.

“I’m here to bring you home, Damian! You’re smart! You have to see that what Ra’s wants is insane!” He berates leaning forward as though that would somehow give his ramblings clarity. “They’re using you, Damian! Ra’s, Talia, no one here wants what is best for you!”

“And you do!?” Damian roars maddeningly, gripping the bars of the cage furiously while bearing his teeth at Grayson’s words. “I would laugh at your insolence but I wouldn't dare waste my breath on you! You have no right to be talking about what is best for me! Of all people, it is you, Nightwing, who has been a thorn in my side since day one! You’re almost as bad as Drake in that respect. Father might have ordered you to hold me back, but it was you who tried to brainwash me with your empty lesson!”

“That wasn’t what I was trying to do!” Grayson cries, shaking his head. “I was trying to show you how to be happy! I wanted to give you a real childhood where you could make friends and be happy!” 

“You were trying to lead me astray from the League’s teachings in the most annoying way possible!”

“The League’s teachings are flawed! Do you not see how sad it is here? Weren’t you happier in Gotham where you have people who care about you and don’t see you as a tool?!”

“I am happy here!” Damian roars. “You assume that I am not happy here, but I was absolutely miserable in Gotham! All of you blew my talents and kept me away from my true calling! You all talk about what is best for me, what I should be doing, how I must be kept safe yet none of you saw how I was wasting away! Your ideas of a normal childhood are created by idiotic notions of a flawed social system made for peasants who don’t know better! Those who have no skills wielding the blade and have no strength to change the world! Too bad I’m not some naive child who can be manipulated by your words!”

“Dami that’s not what-”

“DON’T CALL ME THAT!” He shouts while repeatedly kicking the metal bars in frustration. 

And then Damian sees Grayson smile at him. He smiles at Damian like he’s worth smiling for and Damian hates it. “Dami.”

“Stop it.”

“Dami~!”

“Stop. it.” 

“Dami, Dami, Dami, Dami, Dami, Dami, Dami, D. A. M. I. DAMI!”

“SHUT UP!” Then he beats the man down repeatedly with his foot until he feels a satisfying crackle underneath his boot. Now the man is laughing at him! A sicken bellows from deep within his gut and tears leak from underneath the electric blue mask not from the pain of the dislocated jaw he’s given him. “Stop it! Stop laughing at me!” 

“S-sorry!” Grayson continues to giggle, doing his best to suppress. “I-I’m not- I’m Hahaha! I’m not laughing at you! I swear! Thi- Thhhh pfffffft Hahahaha! Oh-oh my gosh, I’m so sorry! I’m making things worse but I can’t help it!” In one swift motion he relocates his bones without the use of his hands, a skill Damian didn’t know was possible and clears his throat to regain his composure. “I was just… I was just thinking about how I was going to tell Jonathan how you only let him use that name. He’ll be happy to hear you still care for him.”

“What.” Damian hisses not as a question but a demand for elaboration.

“Jon’s been really depressed since you disappeared.” 

“Yeah, I expected as much.” Honestly, what was Damian expecting to hear? Something new or exciting from Richard Grayson of all people? “Let me guess, he’s been crying non-stop? Big deal, the idiot cries over lost candy and literal spilled milk. He’ll get over it eventually.”

“True, but he hasn’t cried about it. He’s been completely devoid of emotion for a while.” Nightwing replies as he continues to smile at Damian as he relaxes his body and bends it in an unnatural contortion so that the man could comfortably sit with his hands in front of his lap. Urgh. “Now he’s extremely angry. His brothers have been trying to get his eyes to stop glowing red for days.”

Well, what do you know, new information. Damian crosses his arms and takes a step back before inquisitively asking, “Brothers and red eyes?”

“Yep! Our little buddy got heat vision!” He confirms gleefully like a proud Dad. “And two new brothers! You already met one of them-”

“It’s that Luthor fellow isn’t it?”

“How’d ya guess?”

“He and Jonathan share the same IQ.” Damian smiles but suppresses it to default to his usual scowl. “And the other?”

“Mmmmm, nope!” Grayson replies, popping the P. “I’m not gonna spoil the surprise! How about you come back home and see for yourself? I’m sure Jonno would be glad to introduce you two.”

The ten-year-old scoffs at the suggestion and turns his body away from the vigilante as he feels no need to continue this conversation. “I don’t need you to tell me. The League’s information network will find out for me.”

“Sure they will, but I bet I can give you something that even they wouldn’t know about Jonathan. Something you wouldn’t know.” 

“There are lots of things I don’t know about Jonathan. For instance: his birthday.”

“I don’t know that one either but I can tell you he started to consider training seriously.” 

“Mmm…” He contemplates this notion for a bit before shrugging it off. “So what? That was always going to happen. He is the only one worthy of Superman’s legacy. It was about time his family saw that they couldn’t keep him sheltered.” Even if it was for the best, though Damian doesn’t say that last thought out loud. 

Another horridly chipper laugh escapes Grayson’s lips causing Damian to turn and glare at him. “Hahahahaha! Oh, you think he’s training for Superman? Old Uncle Supes is gonna put his little pride and joy in danger? Come on Dami-”

“You don’t get to call me that.”

“You know better than that. Our big ol’ Kryptonian would never put a child, especially his own, in the front lines.” He says like it’s the most obvious statement in the world and Damian is a complete idiot for not recognizing that. “Come on Damian. Who else would be depraved enough to train a potential child superweapon to fight?” 

“Father.” Damian answers without hesitation.

“... Okay, you know what. Fair.” Dick agrees, nodding his head methodically. “And you’re not wrong and you’re not right, but you are close. Come on Dami~ you know the answer.”

He does? Someone who is close to Batman and would have no qualms putting a child of Jonathan’s potential at risk- 

“ **_Drake._ **” He growls with the burning hatred of a million solar flares.

“Ding ding ding ding! We have a winner!” Grayson laughs as his smile turns sinister. “Little Timmy promised our boy of steel that he’d help Jonathan find you since you’ve made it so hard for him. He said it was easy! All Timmy had to do was promise to help him and Jon was snatched up just like that!”

“I never took you for the vindictive type, Nightwing.” Damian snarls as he nervously clutches his chest.

“Me? Holly molly Dami, I’m not vindictive at all. All I want to do is enlighten you!” He sneers darkly with a sense of deathly serene he’s only ever felt from his own mother. “Jonathan is so lost without you. Why not come home and help guide him on the right path? You’re his _best friend_ , right?”

“I know what you’re trying to do! It’s not going to work because I have control! You cannot manipulate me because it is I who holds all the power here while you’re on the cold floor like the failures you and your entire clan are!”

“Like it or not Dami you’re part of this ‘clan.’” He states. “And you have no control. If you did then what’s that under your robe?”

“I’m not going to do it! You hear me, I’m not!” 

“Not going to do what? I’m too much of a fool to understand what you mean.” Grayson cheekily says spitting more blood out onto the floor. “It doesn’t matter what you do or not do. Everyone, birds and bats alike, know where you are. Jon will know where you are. So what are you really hiding from Damian? What is the purpose of hiding your heartbeat from Jon when Tim will bring him here?”

“Why do you people ruin everything! Jonathan is not supposed to be here! He’s too good to be here and become like me-”

“Ah-ha! You know this place is terrible!”

“And now you threaten to bring him? Do my decisions mean nothing?! You want Jonathan to come here so badly? Do you think he can change my mind? Do you think he can bring me back?”

The man shrugs casually tilting his head just enough to resemble some faux innocence. “Do you? Because it sounds like you think he can.”

“Of course I don’t!” Damian rebuttals faster than he should have if his goal was to maintain some semblance of power. “Jonathan is a stupid child! He’s a worse option than you are to try to convince me! He has the language skills of a kindergartener and the intellectual capacity of a dog! Actually, he’s worse than a dog! At least canines have the common sense to know when to quit!”

Grayson nods as though he _totally_ believes every word Damian is proclaiming. “Uh-huh. Sure you do. Although he might be getting pointers from little Timmy so who knows; maybe he is learning to get smarter. Tim is the smartest Robin after all! If anyone could control Jon and show him the ropes I bet it would be Tim Drake- _Wayne_! Our best Robin!”

“That hack is only Robin because he begged for it and Father took pity on him!” 

“What do you care, Dami?” He questions cheekily. “It shouldn’t matter that Tim is Robin and you’re not. Your life is with the League now, right?”

“It shouldn’t! I- I mean it doesn’t!” Damian reprimands himself carelessly as he tries to regain his bearings. “Nothing you people do or say matters because I am not Damian Wayne! I am an Al-Ghul!”

“Then prove we meant nothing to you!” Grayson presses inching closer. “Prove that you are not afraid of us or him! Show me your resolve by ushering that challenge head-on and taking it off! Demonstrate to yourself that you truly are the fearless heir to the Demon’s Head and not the little boy you think we expect you to be!”

“Fine! I will! I’ll show you!” 

With a flourish, Damian tugs open his silks and tugs at the divine on his chest violently. In his desperation, he forgot, or just didn’t care, that the process of ripping out a machine meant to replace his still-beating heart would be incredibly painful. Such a device was never meant to be simply pulled away so flippantly, however, Damian Al-Ghul doesn’t care! He’ll show Grayson, he’ll show his Father, that they’ve accomplished nothing for him! His determination is absolute!

After much struggle, the machine is ripped from his body then he collapses to his knees as his heart fights to keep him alive and standing. Blood drips onto the hot surface of the volcanic stone beneath him and with a feral victorious gaze, he grins at the man who mocked him so. He opens his mouth to announce his triumph alas there was none to be had.

Instead of the superiority Damian expected to gain he feels an overwhelming sense of dread looming over him. This emotion is only strengthened when he blinks his emerald eyes several times to see that the scene was not what he believed it to be. There was no yelling, no chiding, no pressuring for Damian to make a choice and prove his worth.

What he thought was his father’s ward looking down on him, mocking him, is a man without his mask and tears in his eyes trying to comfort him. “Damian, what did you do!?”

Grayson appeared to be shocked by this development and it is then Damian realizes that he wasn’t in uniform. Was the man ever in uniform? He was only dressed in the rags prisoners wore and while Damian saw he was only mildly bruised earlier it is now clear his injuries litter the man’s fair skin in a colorful array. “What do you mean what did I do? I did what you wanted me to do!”

“What are you talking about?” Nightwing questions utterly confused. “We were just talking about Jon and Tim and- and you just-”

“Why are you dressed like that, Nightwing.” Damian questions as the world spins around him. 

Navy blue eyes lower before gazing into emerald green and a bloody hand rattles through the bars of the cell, tugging at the chains, causing Damian to flinch as it caresses his hair gently. “Damian, your eyes.”

“What about my eyes?” 

“They’re glowing green. You need to rest.” He tells him softly. “Jason was like this too for a while. He said it was called pit madness.” 

Damian’s eyes widened, lifting the metal contraption in his hand as it drips blood to the floor. “Y-you weren’t making fun of me? You weren’t mocking me? It was all in my head?”

“Damian…” Grayson sobs and smiled at Damian like he was worth smiling for trying to pull the boy in closer for a hug. “I wouldn’t do that to you. I love you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Damian is still not okay, but at least y'all now know where Dick has been this entire time! Here's a fun game, try seeing what Dick was actually saying rather than what Damian thought he was.
> 
> Thank you for reading, sorry for any grammar mistakes, please give feedback, and I hope you stay for next week when Jon finally gets off his tush and starts his journey to Infinity Island.


	29. Brothers in Arms

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jonathan, Chris, and Conner spend some time together! That's all that will happen. Nothing weird or exciting at all will occur.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WOOOOOOOO! It's 4 am and I'm about to confuse the people with bookmarks and e-mail alerts! Will there be grammar errors? Probably. But can I see them in my sleep-deprived states? No! Let's fucking gooooooo!
> 
> I love you all who somehow have time to read this is you go to school or take time out of your day for this! I love all of you!

Jonathan Samuel Kent is beginning to realize that he’s associated with the two richest people in the country and he doesn’t know how to cope with that fact. All his life he was, and still is, under the impression that he belonged to a normal economic social status. He’s been given so many opportunities and experiences thanks to knowing Bruce Wayne and Conner (Lex Luthor by extension) he almost forgot how normal he was. Does his family have financial struggles from time to time? Of course they do! Jonathan wasn’t like other kids in his class who could buy whatever he wanted and he sometimes almost doesn’t have enough for school lunch, but his parents do their best to give him what he needs.

There is also the fact that the Kent Family has gained two new members who are not only Kryptonian but young men who eat like garbage disposals. Jonathan wasn’t a low maintenance child by any means, nevertheless, the addition of his brothers has been both a blessing and a curse. He hears his mom and dad looking over their finances as they work through ways to readjust their budgets to accommodate for their change in plans.

Chris was doing his best to help redirect Jonathan’s attention away from their parents in their room talking about them like numbers on a sheet but it’s a bit hard when both of them have super hearing. It doesn’t matter how loud the brunet raises the volume on the television; no amount of Power-Rangers was going to distract him from the slightly panicked whispers of his parents. Jon holds his Dami-Doll closer to his chest as he looks away from the screen and Chris holds him closer to his chest on the sofa bed scrolling through shows to find something his little brother would like.

“Clark, should we split Jonathan’s college fund so it could at least help support both him and Christopher?”

“I don’t know because I want to be able to give to the boys equally and if we do that we’ll also have to do it for Conner.”

“Crap, I thought Luthor was going to take care of that.”

“Lois, he’s still my son-”

“I know, I know… Um… Okay! Let’s just not take that vacation to Disney! How about we just scrap vacations all together! We can take the boys to the farm or the Hall of Justice! Those things are mostly free.”

“That’s good for now but we should also cut down the cost of the house we were planning to buy. While we’re at it I think that we should pack Jonathan’s lunches from now on. Have you seen the prices on those things?”

It was at that point Chris stood up, turned off the TV, and grabbed his wallet, which was just one of his father’s old ones. He took Jonathan by the hand before opening the door slightly to speak with their parents. “Hey, I’m going to take Jon out into town for a bit. Do you want me to pick up anything?”

Both adults looked at each other in a silent conversation before shaking their heads. Lois was pulling out her wallet and offered her son a twenty-dollar bill saying, “Here, it’s not much but you two should enjoy yourselves.”

Chris immediately pushed it back as politely as he could and tells his mom, “No, it’s fine! The allowance you gave us is more than enough.”

The couple frowns at the decline, yet nod in understanding as the woman puts her wallet back in her pocket. “That’s good. Don’t forget to put the leash on Jon.”

“Don’t worry about it! I’ll keep an eye on him-”

Clark interrupts his eldest son with a stern gaze through his thick lenses. “Chris, I know it sounds ridiculous for a child Jon’s age and that you’ll watch over him, but you must keep him on the leash.”

“It’s not like Jon is going to be following any strangers… He did that before, didn’t he?” Chris facepalms looking at the seven-year-old staring up at him with innocent eyes.

“Yep.” Both parents answer simultaneously. 

“I’ll get the leash.” He sighs as he walks into Jonathan’s room on the opposite end of the living space. “Jon, say bye to Mom and Dad!”

“Okay!” The boy calls back cheerfully as he trots inside the small bedroom to hug his parents, who were both sitting at the corner desk. “Bye Mom, bye Dad!”

“Bye Jon, remember to listen to Chris and don’t talk to strangers.” Lois firmly orders after kissing his cheek. 

“Don’t go wandering off,” Clark reiterates kissing his son on the head. “And if you get lost all you have to do is call for your brother or use your button.”

“Yes Dad.” Jon huffs.

“Good. Bye Jon!” 

With that said and done the child skips out of the room and closes the door behind him right when Chris comes out with the leash backpack in hand. “Okay Chickadee, let’s wrangle you inside this.., uh, thing mossy on out!” The child nods as he maneuvers himself through the straps of the bag. Chris makes sure to tighten the bands around Jon’s chest, experimentally tugging on it for security, then nodding in approval. “Perfect!”

The two of them head out the door and to the elevator hand in hand on the leash for the entire trip through the apartment complex until they make it to the front lobby. Jon looks to his big brother and asks, “Why are we walking; can’t you drive now?”

“Nope. I can’t drive.” Chris answers instantly as the two of them walk out the front doors. 

“How come?”

“I don’t think my body is used to everything yet. It’s like knowing how to ride a bike, but if you’ve never been on a bike before then bad things will happen.” He explains kindly while coving Jonathan’s eyes from being impacted by the blinding sun blaring over them. “Wow, it’s almost December and the sun is still at it. Anyways, what do you want to do Jon?”

“I dunno.” Jon shrugs. “I thought you wanted to do something.” 

“Nah, I just didn’t want you to be stuck in there listening to all that boring talk.”

“Oh…” Well, Jonathan doesn’t know what to do now. He squeezes the Dami-doll in his hands while thinking of what to do. Timothy hasn’t messaged him since he got taken back to Gotham by his Dad; Jon thinks that Tim is super grounded at the moment. That’s it! “Chris, can we go see Conner? He said that he would come over, but he never did.” 

The man visibly falters at the suggestion and tells Jon, “I want to see Conner too but after the thing we saw on the news earlier this week I don’t think that’s going to be possible. He’s going to be grounded for a long time.”

“But we’re family! You can’t be grounded from your family!” Jon shouts, puffing his cheeks. “Maybe if we go there we can see him!”

“Well I guess it couldn’t hurt to check, but if we can’t see him you can’t get too upset, okay?” Chris concedes reluctantly.

“Okay, Chris.”

The two of them take a rather familiar path to the LexCorp tower that is now finished with its construction and within half an hour they arrive at their destination. The building looks a lot grander now that there’s not a giant hole in the side of it. Chris and Jon make their way to the reception desk where a very pristine man in a pressed suit finishes typing at their workstation before greeting them with a very manufactured smile.

“Hello, welcome to LexCorp! How may I be of assistance today?”

“Uh…” Chris stutters out as he tries to think of an appropriate way to word his request. “Y-You see we want to see someone who might not be allowed visitors-”

“I wanna see our brother Conner!” Jon simplifies as he stands on his tiptoes, trying his very best to see over the counter and failing.

“Conner? Do you know what department he works in? What is his last name?” The man questions politely typing away on their computer.

“Lu-” Jon begins to answer but is swiftly swooped up by his big brother who covers his mouth.

“We’re here to see Mercy Graves.” Chris amends as Jon struggles against the grip. 

The receptionist immediately stops typing once he hears the name and skeptically raises a brow at the two boys. “Really now?”

“Y-yep! We’re distant relatives.”

With a glare, the man turns off their screen and reaches for a red phone next to their computer monitor. “I see. You don’t mind if I get your name right?”

With a bit more confidence Chris stands up tall, unfazed by the struggling child in his arms, to reply, “Of course. My name is Chris Kent.”

“And may I have a form of identification to verify this?”

He moves Jon more comfortably to one arm as he pulls out his wallet and holds it out open to the man. “Yes, here’s my permit.”

Reluctantly the man begins to dial a number on the phone and after a few seconds begins to talk to the person on the other line. “Hello, Miss Graves… Yes, I know that this line is only for emergencies but there are two young boys here saying they’re related to you… Chris Kent… The other?” The man’s eyes dart to Jon then back to Chris expectantly but the brunette shakes his head. “No, I don’t have a name for him but he has black hair, blue eyes, and appears to look about nine-years-old… Well, the little boy originally said he wanted to see a Conner but-... Oh… I- I see! My apologies Miss Grave, I’ll send them up right away… Yes, thank you… Have a lovely day, Goodbye.”

The receptionist clears his throat and quickly places his factory manufactured smile as he stands from the desk. “Sorry for the wait. Miss Graves is awaiting your arrival. Follow me please.”

Chris carries Jonathan, who has stopped struggling and is not stewing in his irritation, to a series of fancy glass elevators with no buttons. Their escort swipes a red card in the scanner next to the lift at the end of the hall and waits for the boys to head inside. Once they do, the door closes behind them and the receptionist walks off as the elevator begins raising.

Jon is finally freed from his confines; he takes a deep breath and glares at his brother. “What was that for!”

“Sorry, sorry!” The man pleas as he ruffles Jon’s messy black hair. “It’s my fault for not telling you earlier. Conner has been kept a secret from almost everyone so it’s not a good idea to mention him so casually.”

“Oh…” The boy blurts looking at the floor nervously before he jumps in surprise. “Woah! Chris, Chris! There’s no floor! It looks like we’re flying!”

Without warning or hesitation, Jon drops down face-first onto the floor with a harsh thud and beams at the sight beneath him much to the amusement of the older male. “Don’t hit it too hard. We wouldn’t want you falling, do we?”

“You’ll catch me and even if you don’t I won’t be hurt if I hit the ground,” Jon states as he watches the floor and the city get smaller.

“True but that doesn’t mean we want that to happen.”

“Where are we going? How far up are we? I didn’t see you press any buttons, so how come the elevator is moving?” The child begins to inquire as he rolls over until he’s facing his side, pressed against the transparent wall to this right. “Wow, there are so many buildings in Metropolis- Hey I can see our apartment from here!”

“The receptionist swiped a card that tells the lift to go to the top floor where I think Conner will be.” Chris lays down next to Jonathan pretending to struggle seeing it even though he has supervision. “Mmmm, You’re going to have to point out our apartment. I don’t think I see it.”

“It’s that white building over there.” Jon describes as he points at it. 

“Nope, I still don’t see it.”

“Chriiiiiiiisss! It’s right there! Look!” Jon whines as he gets on his knees to grab the man’s heavy arm and points it at the window. “See! It’s right there!”

“Oooooooh, now I see it!” Chris gleams exaggeratedly before suddenly grabbing Jonathan to his chest and giving him furious read rubs. “Gotcha!”

“Aaaaaaaaahhhh! Chris!” The second-grader squeals before breaking into a fit of giggles as the man begins to tickle him. “Hahahahahahahah! C-Chris st-stop! Hahaha!”

“Never!”

It was at that moment the lift arrives at its destination and with a short ding, the doors opened to reveal an excited Conner Luthor and an angry little blonde girl with half a braid in her long straight hair glaring at the two males rolling around on the floor. The two of them awkwardly stand to their feet red in the face with embarrassment as they step out of the glass elevator. Jonathan happily hugs his younger older brother’s waist to greet him while Chris merely waves at the teenager and little girl. 

“Hey, sorry to drop by so suddenly.” He says sticking out a hand to shake. 

Instead of returning the gesture Conner instead uses one of his arms to pull the man in for a side hug. “Hey, it’s no big deal! I’m, like, totally hype to see you two! It’s been forever!”

A forced cough directs the boy’s attention to the little girl still angrily glaring at them. Now that Jon gets a good look at her he notices that she’s not like any human he’s seen before. There are three glowing pink circuits on her forehead in the shape of a triangle that almost appears to be glowing. Other than that she almost appears normal although her frilly purple princess dress is a bit much but who is Jon to judge what people wear in their own homes.

“Oh, right!” Conner exclaims as he steps back and waves his hand in the little girl’s direction. “This is my little sister-”

“ **Older** sister.” She emphasizes with a haughty hair flip. 

“This is my older sister Lena Luthor... The second.”

Confused by the statement Jon tilts his head at the girl who immediately snaps at him. “What.”

“You’re older?” The boy questions aloud. “But Conner is so much bigger than you and he’s a teenager.”

“That doesn’t mean anything.” She huffs crossing her arms. “I am the eldest sibling and therefore the one in charge of the two of us when Mercy is away.”

Man, Jonathan is getting some serious Damian vibes from this girl, but it doesn’t matter because she’s Conner’s sister. That means they can all be friends. “Hi Lena! I'm Jonathan Samuel Kent but you can just call me Jon! Your brother is also my brother so we should be friends!”

“Sure.” She agrees as insincerely as humanly possible before turning to the half-Kryptonian teenager. “Kon, are we going to indulge these guests in the doorway for any longer, or are you going to finish braiding my hair!”

“Oops, I almost forgot.” Lena bristles at that statement and Conner immediately goes to rectify his words. “I-I mean I’ll do it right now!” Hurriedly the teen gets on his knees and frantically styles the girl’s hair that almost touches the floor into a long, but more manageable, braid. His fingers do it with such skill that it’s obvious to the other Kent siblings that he’s done this job countless times before. Once he’s done with her hair the boy reaches into the pocket of his jeans and pulls out a large pink headband with violets embroidered on it and slips it through her hair and over the marks on Lena’s forehead. “There ya go, Lena! Now you’re all ready for your tea party.”

Lena pulls out a lavender compact mirror from her ornate princess purse to examine the work done on her. “Mmm…” Electric green eyes scowl at the reflection for a couple of moments before a reserved grin rests on her face. “This will do. Daaaaadddddyyyy!” 

“Anytime,” Conner reassures her as she sprints down the tiled hall to wherever she needs to be calling for her father.

“How come she calls you Kon? What are those things on her head?” Jon questions as he watches her disappear. 

“It’s just a nickname she has for me ‘cause Conner was apparently too long for her when she was younger. The things on her head are… uh… We don’t talk about it and when I say ‘we’ I mean my Dad.” Conner explains while he takes the rope from Chris’s hand to pull Jonathan along. “I can’t wait to show you two around! My room is so cool and I have so many video games and-”

“Conner, you’re still grounded!” Jon hears a familiar voice shout from where Lena ran off to. 

“But Daaaaaaaaad,” Conner whines, throwing his hands down. “Chris and Jon are here! I can’t just NOT show them my videogames!”

“There are other things to do.”

“But Daaaaaad!”

“Conner-”

“Hi, sorry to interrupt,” Chris apologies, not sounding the least bit sorry. “But is that Lex Luthor?”

Conner blinks confusingly at the sentences and responds with a rather blunt, “Um… No shit.”

“Language.” Chris scolds while covering Jonathan’s ears. 

“Sorry.” The teen winces as he looks nervously at Jon who appears unphased. “Don’t repeat that.”

“It’s okay, Jason already swears a lot in front of me. I don’t think he cares anymore so I hear all of the swear words from him.” Jon explains with an understanding smile.

Chris sighs and tiredly looks at the second-grader. “Okay, so I’m going to give him a call later, but first…” He turns to Conner and asks, “Can I talk to your father for a bit?”

“Uuhhh sure?” Conner replies hesitantly as he leads them down the hall to Lena’s extremely stylish room where they find Lex Luthor, one of Superman’s greatest villains, at a bright pink table sitting on a chair that is clearly not meant for a man his size wearing a hot pink boa. 

This was certainly not how Jonathan ever imagined meeting his second-ever super villain although Jon never put too much thought into how he’s supposed to encounter them. Lena was in the process of pouring her Dad a cup of fruit juice that was supposed to be substituting actual tea when the man turns to look at them. He sighs and takes a dignified sip of his drink, somehow, before straightening out his suit. 

“Hello. Have a seat.” He gestures to the other tiny pink chair across from him and at his behest, Lena begrudgingly pours another cup of juice for their guest. 

“Um… Can we talk somewhere else away from the kids?” Conner did not appreciate that sentiment but Luthor waves of his obvious annoyance. 

“Nonsense. Serious and important discussions are exactly what tea parties were designed for.” The bald man says with complete sobriety.

“And to upstage your peers!” Lena adds helpfully, earning a smile from her father.

“Or plan the social ruin of your enemies.” Conner chimes in thoughtfully like this scenario was completely normal.

“Exactly.” 

“Okay, but I don’t think Lena should listening-” The brunet tries to argue but the little girl shoves a cyan feather boa up into his side with a rather terrifying scowl. 

“You interrupt my party and now you must suffer the consequences.” She nearly growls before she beams brightly to skip back to her father. “And if you don’t join me I will be forced to seek retribution.”

Chris rubs the bridge of his nose as he walks to the table but halts and turns to Jon. “Hey, can you… I’m going to be talking about a lot of boring adult stuff so you don’t have to listen.”

It’s clear the man doesn’t want the seven-year to be present and while Jon is admittedly bad at reading rooms he at least knows that he hates tea parties. “Okay! I’m going to lay down in the elevator again!” 

Jon runs back to the glass elevator and immediately faceplants onto the floor to be distracted by the tall view. In his rush, he forgot that Conner was still attached to his leash, and shortly after Jon falls Conner lands directly on top of him. The impact startles Jon and the boy does his best to push his brother off to no avail. “Conner, you’re fat! Get off me!”

“I am not fat, I’m muscular!!” The teen shouts back as he pushes himself off his little brother. “Also, why do you want to lay down in the elevator. If you want to look outside we have windows!”

“Because I get to feel like I can fly if I lay down here! You and Dad and Kara and Aunt Lana and even Krypto can fly but I can’t! I think Chris can fly too but I haven’t seen him do it because he’s not allowed to use his powers in front of me.” Jon explains as he lays his arms and legs flat onto the ground while making airplane noises.

“I’d totally fly you around, Jon, but I’m not allowed to use my powers and I think I’ve hit a new high point in being grounded: I'm not allowed to stay at the windows for long periods of time.” Conner sympathizes as he drags a limp Jonathan back into the penthouse. “Which is really hard to do when most of the walls are windows.”

“That’s a weird punishment.”

“He just doesn’t want my face to be seen.” Conner shrugs. “Besides, I already can’t go outside. What is he going to do? Ban me from seeing my friends? I can’t even make friends cause I’m stuck in this tower all the time!”

“Conner stop complaining!” Luthor shouts from Lena’s room.

“I would if you stop doing things to complain about!” The teenager shouts back with equal intensity. He turns back to Jon with a cheerful smile to ask, “So do you wanna see my room?”

“Heck yeah!” Jon yells enthusiastically from the floor.

Eagerly, the teenager picks Jon up and walks up a flight of stairs near the elevator. At the end of a long, dark, windowless hall only lit by dim integrated LEDs was a heavy metal door that looks like a bank vault. The teenager shifts Jonathan to sit on his forearm while he fiddles with the green piercing on his ear then use his free arm to turn the enormously heavy handle of the door. Even with his super strength, Conner was struggling to enter his room with just one arm. Jon didn’t understand why his brother didn’t put him down, but Conner is older so he must know something Jon doesn’t.

Or he didn’t think of it. 

After much struggle, the door opens and Jon is met with an absolutely wonderful sight. The room was enormous and right in front of the door was a spile staircase to a loft that is composed of a small wooden walkway and the largest bed Jonathan has ever seen. Next to the stairs were two slides, one red and one blue. The red slide ended next to the stairs but the blue one went to a swimming pool that took up the entire second half of the room. Across from the pool was a projector, connected to every gaming console known to man, facing the back wall that acts as the largest TV Jonathan has ever been blessed to lay his eyes upon. If that wasn’t enough there was also a fully loaded snack bar under the loft of Conner’s bed. Jon thought that was the last of his surprises but he cranes his neck up higher to see a large net hanging above them and along the top of the walls were towering bookshelves.

“Conner… It’s just like that scene from Beauty and the Beast but a bajillion times cooler!” Jon exclaims as he tries to crane his neck like an owl to take everything in. 

“Odd comparison but okay.” He states as he walks up the stairs. “And this is where I spend most of my time!”

“...”

“Jon?”

“Conner,” Jon says seriously. “Your room is full of so many cool things! Why are you spending all of your time in bed?”

The teen scratches the shaven part of his head as he contemplates his answer. “I’m kinda grounded from my games and I just don’t feel like doing anything else.”

“What do you mean you don’t feel like doing anything?” 

“Well…” He says hesitantly looking around his room. “I mean I just don’t. Doing stuff by myself is really boring and even when Lena is around we don’t do everything together. Plus she has school and Dad has work, so I’m just alone at home sleeping most of the time. But enough about that! You’re here and we can do a bunch of cool stuff together!” The teenager begins to dig through a nightstand and hold out swim trunks in front of Jonathan’s person before shaking his head and putting them away. “I don’t think I have anything that can fit you, but I bet if I find a pair with strings I can tighten them and it would work!”

“Are we going swimming?” Jon asks as he examines the area from this new vantage point. 

“Well of course we are! Unless you want to read… Do you want to read?”

The boy shakes his head and takes off his child’s leash and shirt. “Nah, I’m really bad at reading. My mom tells me that I should work harder but it’s just super boring.”

“You probably haven’t found a book you like. I can lend you some if you want- Ah-ha! Found it!” Coner declares victoriously as he lifts a pair of red swim trunks with a string at the waist. “Here ya go, Jon! Put these on!”

Jon takes the swimwear and puts it on over his pants to find that it awkwardly reaches his ankles. “Um… Do you have an old pair that’s smaller?”

“Nope,” Conner answers as he picks his swimsuit out. “All my old pairs are the same size as my new pairs.”

“How does that work?” The child asks curiously as he takes off the red shorts.

“Oh, I just don’t grow.” The teen says casually causing Jonathan to freeze and gawk at his brother. “I’ve been the age I am all my life.”

Now that Jon thinks about it he doesn’t know how old Conner is. “Conner, how old are you?”

“Five.”

Holy cow.

“I’m the big brother?!” The seven-year-old yells as he falls over from shock. 

“Oh my gosh, Jon I don’t need this from you too!” Conner groans, throwing his head back. “I get it enough from Lena! I might be five but corporally and cognitively I’m a teenager. I still call dibs on big brother rights!”

“I don’t know what those words mean. Did you come out of your mom a teenager?” Jon questions pointing at the large teenager. 

“No? Yes? I was made in a lab like the one Chris is from but he wasn’t made. It’s really complicated.” He replies slowly as he closes his nightstand and takes off his shirt. “I don’t have a mom. I just have two dads… I mean, I guess I have a stepmom but that’s just your mom and I don’t know her. I don’t know our dad either but that’s not important.”

Jon sits at the end of the bed to take off his pants to properly wear the trunks however he accidentally knocks down his backpack. In his haste to not let it hit the floor his fingers dart out to grab the large plastic zipper causing it to open and spill out its contents. The young Kryptonian hybrid wasn’t so concerned with what came out but with what didn’t. On the wooden walkway a series of snack bars, a novelty Superman wallet, his Dami-Doll, and a deflated Superman-themed basketball spilled to the floor. 

In a panic, Jonathan dropped to his knees and turns his backpack inside out looking for the missing item while Conner takes the deflated ball. “Hey, I won you this! I can’t believe you still kept it in your bag this entire time! I still kept the shirt and cape you gave me but Dad took them away after that thing at Star Labs-”

“It’s not here!” Jon screeches frantically as he scatters everything on the ground. “It’s not here, where is it!?”

“What’s not here?” The older boy inquires as he joins his little brother on the floor. 

“I could have sworn I took it out of my school bag and put it in here instead! Where- It has to be here somewhere! I couldn’t have lost it!”

“Jon, buddy, I’d love to help you find whatever you lost, but you have to tell me what it is.”

“I made sure I didn’t lose it. I’m the only person who puts anything in this bag and no one else… CHRIS!” Jon yells fiercely as he reaches his epiphany. “He took my phone!” 

Conner blinks his sky blue eyes a few times then says, “Is that a toy cause I know that you don’t have a phone? If that’s the case I can buy you a new one.”

Thousands of horrible thoughts ran through Jonathan’s head after his realization. Did Christopher always know about the communicator? Did he accidentally find it? Does he know of their plan? Why did Chris open his backpack? Does he know when Jon got it? How come he hasn’t said anything? What’s going to happen now? How is Jon going to contact Tim? There wasn’t any other secret way that-... Wait a darn second.

“Conner, I need your Robin communicator,” Jon demands forcefully with outstretched tiny fingers. 

“W-whaaaat?” The teen breaths out tentatively as he tries to look anywhere but Jonathan’s face. “I-I don’t know what you’re talking about. I mean I kinda know the guy and sure I helped him break into Star Labs, but that was a one-time thing!” The seven-year-old’s deadpan expression showed his sibling that he wasn’t the least bit convinced. “R-really! I don’t! I’ve only met the guy three times!”

“When?” 

“Well, the first time was right we met up on Halloween. It was weird cause I only knew him as the weirdo who screamed in my face, but he was in my house later and started interrogating me on stuff I didn’t know but holy crap he’s Robin! Do you know how cool that is?!”

“Yeah, I know.”

“Exactly! So I had no idea what he was saying and then he started mentioning Young Justice and I was freaking out! Do you know how much I always wanted to be part of that? A bunch of teen heroes who are related to heroes is my kind of group and I wasn’t going to let that pass me by! I was so prepared to get on my knees and start begging but luckily I didn’t have to because he offered! He told me to come over to his place later to see if it was good enough but you were there for some reason and we got kicked out for some reason- Also, is Bruce Wayne Batman, or is he just Robin’s Dad?”

“Yes.”

“Okay then. Anyways, a week later he told me that he needed to steal something from Star Labs and since Lex Luthor practically owns the city he must have a way in. That pissed me off because I’m not just my dad’s son so I was like, ‘Nah fam I’m going to make a door cause I have super strength.’ and he was like, ‘What? That’s not how doors work.’ But too late bitch I already punched a wall! Then people were panicking and I realized that’s not how doors worked so now we’re panicking. Next thing I know a bunch of ninjas were attacking us and HOLY CRAP I WAS FIGHTING NINJAS! I was so cool and Robin was so cool and it was the best day of my life! Then someone was talking but I don’t know who it was, but Robin seemed to know and then he threw a bomb and things were exploding! Now everything was on fire and he fell out of the window and Superman showed up and took us out and then I got super grounded.”

“I see,” Jon says as he takes everything in. “So how did Robin call you the third time? Did he just break into your room again?”

Conner shakes his head side to side. “You know, at the time I didn’t question it but this room is supposed to be Superman proof so the fact that he broke in so easily is terrifying.”

“Conner.”

“Right, right, the communicator-”

“So you do have one! Liar, liar, pants on fire!” Jon accuses, pointing rudely at his brother’s lying face. “You have a Robin communicator and I need you to give it to me for a few seconds!”

“I can’t give you that, you’re seven!”

“And you’re five!”

“I’m technically an adult! I have the kind of face and body that can pass for an adult if I dress right! Why do you even need it?” Conner presses as he moves away from Jon.

Jonathan exhales wistfully as he repacks all of his belongings in his bag, because he doesn’t want to leave a mess in other people’s homes, and pulls up his pants as he reveals, “I want to see my best friend. I want him to come home, but I also really just want to talk to him. He never even said good-bye.”

“Oh.” The teenager blurts out as he helps Jon pack up his belongings. “I’m sorry to hear that Jon, but why do you need to contact Robin for that?”

“Cause he’s a trained assassin prince who lives on a secret island full of ninjas.” The boy answers plainly as he caresses the Damian plushie closely. 

“DID YOU SAY NINJAS?!” Conner screams excitedly before shooting up into the library section of the room and starts tossing books down to the net below. “Are you planning to fight ninjas on a remote secret island?”

“I think? I think it belongs to his granddad who might be a supervillain-”

“YOU’RE GOING TO FIGHT SUPERVILLAIN NINJAS!?” He screams again as he excitedly flips through the pages of a rather thick book. After searching through several of them he finds the novel he was looking for and pulls out another Robin communicator but this one was more advanced than the one Jonathan had; it looked like a traditional smartphone. Once that was in his hands he flew back down with a huge smile on his face that spoke of complete excitement. “Call him! Call hi- wait I don’t have a shirt on!”

Jon calls him right away since the phone is easy to navigate seeing that it only has one primary function. What does it matter that Conner is shirtless? Without even a pause Tim answers the phone and Jon notices that it’s a video phone. The boy looks like he hasn’t slept in a long time, but that’s not new. “Conner? Wait, Jon? Why are you calling from Conner’s coooooOOoAAAAH!”

“Jon, I told you I wasn’t ready!” The teenager next to him whines as he haphazardly puts his shirt back on.

“Tim! Tim, I got really bad news!” Jon relays not paying attention to the frenzy going on around him. “Chris knows and he took my communicator!”

“And is he listening in?” The lithe teen asks, covering his eyes.

“Uh…”

“Room is Superman proof. That means Super-hearing doesn’t work through these walls.” Conner informs once he slips his attire over his head backward.

“Really?” Jon asks skeptically. “Cause I can still hear Dami.”

“You found him, that’s good,” Tim says optimistically. “Unfortunately I’m going to have to rush some things. We’ll have to push the plan up sooner than I anticipated. Jon, be ready at any moment for the mission.”

“Got it!” The child nods before perking up. “Oh, also I promised to bring Colin and an adult-”

“I can be an adult!” Conner yells, shaking Jonathan wildly. “Please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, PLEEEEEASE! I am wasting away here! You gotta take me with you, Jon! It’s my dream to do cool shit like this! I’m you’re big bro, you gotta take me!”

If Jon didn’t have enhanced durability he feels that his neck would have snapped with how much the older boy was shaking him. “Um, I dunno cause it’s already a lot that I sprung the Colin thing up and-”

“I’ll allow it.” Tim readily interrupts taking his hand off his face. “Sure, Colin can come! A-and so can Conner!”

Huh, well that was surprisingly easier than Jonathan expected. Welp, he isn’t one to count his blessings so he simply smiles graciously. “Wow, thanks Tim!”

“Auh huh…” Tim sighs looking at the screen.

“Tim?” Jon repeats seeing a distant look in the teenager’s royal blue eyes. “Earth to Tim?”

“Yeah, sure.”

Okay, he’s definitely out of it and Jonathan sure hopes it isn’t a blackout. The boy breaks out of his brother’s grip, who is too frozen shocked to stop him, and turns the camera away from his brother to give Tim privacy if it is a blackout. “Tim!

The teen shakes his head and seemingly comes back to his senses. “Huh?”

“Are you okay? Was it a vision?” The boy asks concerned for the other’s well being.

“What? No! I mean- okay Jon bye!” Tim shouts red in the face as he ends the call.

“Bye!” Jon waves even though Tim can’t see or hear him. “He hung up really fast. I wonder if he’s okay… Conner?”

Conner currently found himself petrified in joy at the opportunity he was given. The teen vibrated in his place with a stupidly large grin on his face not paying attention to the world around him. Sneakily Jon slipped the communicator back into Conner’s hand and tightened the string of his swim trunks. The child doesn’t even wait for his brother to snap out of his stupor before he decides to enjoy the best room he’s ever been to in his life.

Jon slides down the blue slide and lands into the pool where he carelessly swims around for a couple of minutes until Conner regains his grip on reality and forgoes the slide, opting to jump straight off the lot. The little boy enjoys being swayed by the ripple in the water before strong arms wrap around him from behind and squeeze Jon into the tightest hug he’s ever felt. 

“Ack!”

“Jon! Jon, thank you! Thank you, thank you, thank you! I promise I’ll protect you and be cool and not embarrass you!” Conner cheers twirling the boy in his arms so fast he begins to make a mini whirlpool around them. 

“C-con-Conne-” Jonathan struggles to get out.

“I really owe ya one! That’s what siblings are for!” 

“I can’t breath!”

The teenager immediately releases Jon into the water and the whirlpool whisks his small body away causing him to rotate around his brother. “Crap! Sorry, Jon, I’ll save you!” He declares as he tries to catch the child.

The two of them splash about in the pool some more doing their brotherly bonding when Chris enters the room and is as taken aback as Jonathan was when he first saw the room. “What the…” 

“Hi Chris!” Jon calls out from atop Conner’s shoulders. “Come join us!” 

The man stumbles into the room cautiously while leaving the door open behind him and walks up to the edge of the pool. “Wow, Luthor didn’t spare any expenses.”

“I guess.” Conner shrugs and his distasteful tone isn’t lost on Chris.

“What’s wrong? Do you not like it?” 

“It’s perfect.” He replies curtly then changes his mood as he sets Jonathan back into the pool to fly to the loft. “Chris, bro, try on these! They’ll fit you better than Jon!”

Christopher catches the pair of shorts flying towards him with ease and looks at them doubtingly. “You sure I can wear them?”

“What do you mean? You’re taller but not that much taller. At least you don’t look like you’re wearing hammer pants like Jon does.”

“Hey!”

“I don’t know, Thunder Thighs, you tell me.” He teases as he stretches the pants lengthwise earning a laugh from Jon and an alarm clock to the head from Conner. “Relax man, it’s not like I’m calling you fat!”

“I am,” Jon says while floating on his back in the pool.

“Jon, you sure you should be in the pool without your leash?” Chris laughs as he changes into the swimwear. “What if you follow another stranger?”

“I’ll have you know I follow great strangers! That guy with the eyepatch, my friend Colin, and Conner! I’m three for three!” The seven-grader argues while trending to the edge of the pool to be closer to Chris. 

“I’m sorry what?” Jon’s eldest sibling questions after getting dressed. “Who is this guy with an eyepatch and… and Conner?” He looks to his younger brother who doesn’t dare meet him in the eye.

“I dunno who the eyepatch guy is but he dual-wielded swords and Dick knows and I think his brain shut off when I told him after I got out of the casino covered in blood to find Dami in the white van he was pantless in. I just followed Conner out of an emergency exit and he took me to get ice cream from a truck away from my family!”

The two older brothers stare at each other for an uncomfortably long time. Conner is the first to speak up seeing as how he was partially the subject of this conversation. “Oooooookay. So either Jonathan is really bad at explaining things or he really needs therapy.”

“I go to therapy every Sunday and sometimes more if I do something bad like punching a kid in the face,” Jon informs indifferently.

“I think it’s both.” Chris sighs as he drags his hand down his face. “One crisis at a time Chris.”

“Wha-”

“How about I show Jon how to have some real fun in the pool! I bet Conner hasn’t shown you what ice breath can really do!” Chris announces with gusto as he flies up to the side of the pool, inhaling a massive amount of air, and blowing an enormously wavy ice slide.

“I WANNA DO THAT!” Both of the younger siblings shout as they watch the structure form from what appears to be nothing. 

“Whew!” The brunette breaths wiping the sweat off his brow with his forearm. “I am really out of shape.”

“I thought you weren’t supposed to use your powers in front of me,” Jon says as he swims towards the slide. “Wow, the water is really cold in this part!”

“I can fix that!” Conner interjects eagerly so he wouldn’t be upstaged by the older male who was ready to laser the water for Jon’s comfort. “I’ll show you how it’s done!

Instantly the teenager’s eyes glow a bright red and even though there isn’t a laser beam shooting out of his pupils the water begins to feel warm in a matter of seconds. Seeing this Chris flies over to his brother and puts his hands over his eyes softly. “Okay there, that’s enough of that. I’m impressed!”

“Really?!” Conner beams from being praised. “I mean I don’t get to practice but you think I did well?”

“Yeah! That’s some really powerful heat vision you got there.” Chris confirms with a strong nod. “Just remember to tone it down when Jon’s in the water. We don’t want to have to explain a boiled elementary schooler to Dad and Mom, do we?” 

“R-right! Sorry Jon!” Jon doesn’t respond as he’s too busy trying to use his own heat vision on the water and upset he doesn’t have as much of an effect on it as Conner does. “Jon? Jonno? Earth to Jonathan!” 

The little boy puffs his cheeks in irritation as he turns off his eyes. “How come Conner’s eyes are so strong but mine isn’t? We’re both half-Kryptonian!”

Hitting the warm water, Chris and Conner stand next to the upset boy and do their best to reassure him. “Jon, it’s okay. I’m sure you’ll be super strong when you get older!” Conner encourages as he messes the boy’s wet black hair.

“And even if you don’t it’s not a big deal,” Chris explains calmly. “You shouldn’t compare yourself to others because they’re not you. It is unfair to do that to yourself.”

“I know but I still want to get stronger now like you and Conner.” 

Quickly the older man turns his head around to look for something to distract Jon from this line of thought and finds an empty cardboard box near the gaming consoles. He zooms there and back with the box and asks Jon, “You want to go on my ice slide?” 

And just like that Jon forgets all about his insecurities because slide. “Yeah!”

“I bet I could make a cooler slide,” Conner mutters, earning him a harsh elbow to the ribs. “Oof!”

It was a few more hours of playing then trying to use all three brain cells between them, most of them belonging to Chris, to figure out how to get rid of half a glacier in the middle of a room with no windows without ruining everything. Putting it in the pool and praying for it not to flood was their best option and even if it failed was their best bet. Even if it turns out disastrous Lex Luthor is a billionaire and can pay to have it fixed. 

All three boys got chained back into dry clothes and seeing it was getting late the eldest Kent strapped Jonathan back into his child leash as they walk back to the glass elevator. “This was fun!” Jon remarks happily as he stands inside the elevator to see the view of Metropolis at night. “Woah!” 

“Wow, we were here for a while. We better run home before Mom and Dad worry too much.” Chris announces holding Jonathan’s hand as they enter the elevator.

Jon nods in agreement while Conner pulls out a card similar to the one the receptionist had when they first arrived. “Say hi to Dad and Lois for me!”

“We will. So are you just going to call both Clark and Luthor dad?”

“I don’t see why not. It’s not like they’re ever in the same place at the same time.”

“What if they were because of, I dunno, Superhero stuff?”

“I’ll deal with it then.” Conner brushes off. “You two should come over more often! I would come to visit you guys but… Sorry this is such a hassle.”

Jon hugs his older brother one last time before fully stepping into the elevator. “Don’t worry, even if your room wasn’t awesome I would still come to see you cause you’re so cool!”

With a sorrowful smile, Conner hugs him back tightly then letting go before Jon could enjoy the hug. “You’re sweet.”

“Hey, don’t leave me out!” Chris cries as he envelopes the teenager in a tight bear hug. “I promise, next week I’m going to show you a real Kent family Thanksgiving Ma and Pa Kent!”

“Outside?” The young male breaths out in disbelief. “I don’t think my Dad would like that-”

“I already talked to him about it and you’re good to go!” He announces with a thumbs-up.

Blue eyes widen to a comical size as though Conner didn’t believe what he was hearing. “Is that what you two were talking about? How did you convince him!?”

“We talked about a lot of things but for dinner, I just told him if he wanted to try keeping a grandbaby from Mama Kent he better be ready for the Hell she’ll bring.” Chris laughs, freeing Conner from the embrace. “I swear that woman might raid the LexCorp tower with her shotgun if he tries hiding you away for any longer.”

“T-thank you…” The teen seethes through his teeth with a shaky voice as he hastily nudges Christopher inside the lift. “A-anyways I shouldn’t keep you two out! I’ll see you guys later!” 

The doors shut and although Conner tried to hide it Jonathan can still see his big brother collapse to the floor crying. Confused by this Jon looks to his older brother and asks, “Why is Conner crying? Is he sad?” 

Chris shakes his head as he looks up at the teenager while they descend through the lift illuminated but the bright city below them. “No, he’s really happy Jon. I’m sure you already know this but Conner isn’t allowed outside much. That means every time he goes outside it’s special.”

“Going outside shouldn’t be that special.”

“It shouldn’t. It’s kinda weird seeing him like this.” Chris admits nostalgically. “In my head or the visions, he used to be so free. Kon would be able to do what he wanted whenever he wanted because there was nothing tying him down. No family, no friends, no obligations, and no Superman to tell him what to do. Eventually, he got all of those things but it was because it was something he wanted for himself. Now, this Conner has everything holding him back. I wonder if this is better or worse.”

The man is not one to speak about what he sees so openly so hearing it sounds odd to Jonathan, but he thinks that whatever Chris sees must have been something he misses. “Conner is our family so I don’t think it really matters because it’ll be good if we’re with him!”

“Yeah,” He replies holding Jonathan’s hand tighter. “Yeah, you’re right. It doesn’t matter how things are because I’ll make it better.”

That is not what Jon said but that’s probably the same thing, right?

The streets of Metropolis were as busy during the day as they were during the night if not worse. Jonathan and Chris struggle to even move forward against the flow of people going in the opposite direction. Jon was never more grateful for being a kid on a leash now more than ever because if left to his own devices he was sure we would have been swept away. 

“It’s going to be fine Jon, just a few more steps!” His brother encourages him as they push their way through.

“It would be faster if we could fly,” Jon grumbles as another person shoves into him.

“Too bad that’s not something normal civilians would do, huh?” 

Gosh, Jon hates this no power rule. Sure, abuse of superpowers isn’t something he should be doing or encouraging, but he’s seven and uncomfortable! There should be exceptions to the rules that include bad foot traffic!

Chris pulls the boy out of the flow of traffic in a huff and to the front doors of their apartment complex. “Phew! It might only be seven but it sure does feel like the six o’clock rush. You doing okay there buddy?”

“I never want to do that again.” Jon pouts, glaring up at Chris.

“Sorry, next time we go on a little trip I’ll make sure to mossy both of us home before the rush.”

“Why couldn’t we stay over at Conner’s? I don’t think he’ll mind!”

“I’m sure he wouldn’t but it’s not Conner’s say whether we get to stay or not. Besides, you have therapy tomorrow with Mrs. Queen. You should get some rest at home.”

“You’re right.” Jonathan concedes walking into the apartment complex. 

The journey to their home felt short due to the eventful day both of them had. The two of them would like nothing more than to cool down on the couch bed and fall asleep watching TV. Life had a different plan for them as the second Chris opens the apartment door they are met with the angry stares of Lois and Clark Kent. 

“Hello boys, did you two have fun?” Their dad asks in his usual chipper tone and smile, but it felt anything but.

“Is this about us being late?” The older sibling asks hopefully much to the younger’s perplexion. Why would he be happy that they’re mad for being late?

“No, of course, we aren’t bothered about that. We trust you two to come home safe and sound.” Lois answers with an overcompensating sweet voice that sounds downright menacing. “What we are concerned about is the wire transfer we suddenly got from Lex Luthor.”

Chris’s tan skin goes white the instant those words leave her mouth and he breaks out in a cold sweat. “Jon, go to your room.” He whispers quickly before turning his attention back to his mother. “I can explain!”

“Yes, please explain why I got a condescending call from Luthor about our finances,” Clark demands politely clenching his fist. “I would love to hear why you felt the need to discuss these things with him rather than talk to us first.”

Jon promptly nopes out of the situation and feels the impending fight about to break out as he makes way to his bedroom and closes the door. He lets out a sigh of relief and goes to put his bag down when he feels a hand cover his mouth. The child doesn’t even bother to struggle because he already knows the procedure for these kinds of things thanks to Damian. He left himself to be hauled off out the window, which doesn’t make any sense because he’s pretty sure that pane didn’t have a way to be opened, and up the side of the building where he clutches his captor’s arm tightly. 

The two of them do their best to not make a sound and Jonathan keeps his functions steady as he sees a grappling gun shoot out in front of him on to the adjacent building. They swing to the roof of the second building where he finally comes face to face with Tim in full Robin attire. “Heya Jon.”

“Hi Tim-”

“Names.”

“Hi Robin,” Jon whispers. “How did you get here so fast?” 

“I don’t sleep and I stole a plane.” The vigilante answers without room for doubt. “I got everything you asked for and everything we need. Here, you’ll need this.” 

Tim tosses Jon a shirt he’s pretty sure he saw on a Halloween display several weeks ago. It was a nylon Superman shirt with a hexagon pattern and a cape attached to the back. It feels weird holding the famous symbol in his hands again because what he’s about to do doesn’t feel very heroic… but it does feel cool. Jon slips the shirt on over the one he’s wearing before the fifteen-year-old grabs him again and swings around several buildings until they see a distinct black bat-shaped vehicle at the top of a random hotel.

Instantly Colin, in full zebra pajamas, sticks his head out of the window scowling at Jon. “You know, I would like a warning before these things happen!”

“Sorry!” Jon apologies as he runs up to the door. “Wow, is this the Batplane?”

“No, this is something Jason made when he was an arms trafficker to spite B,” Tim explains nonchalantly as he opens the driver’s side of the door to reveal a passed out Conner in the passenger seat.

“Oh my gosh, Tim-”

“Names.”

“Robin! Did you knock out my brother?” Jon panics as he hops into the back and past his friend to check on his sibling. 

“No, he got overly excited when I came to pick him up and he accidentally knocked himself out. Ask Abuse.”

“Abuse? Oh, right.” He looks to Colin who nods his head at the stupidity of the entire situation.

“Yep. Also, I don’t know what you think an adult is Jon but that is not one. We’re all a bunch of unsupervised children!” The redhead shouts, shaking Jonathan’s shoulders manically. 

“And that’s why this is gonna be awesome…” Conner mumbles with his fleeting consciousness.

In the eloquent words of an extremely tired and done Colin Wilkes right as they take off in the not-Batplane,

**“We’re all FUCKED!”**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I need more Chris Kent stuff cause I only discovered him shortly before writing this fic and DC yeeted him into the either. He's technically back but I have not been doing my comic HW so fuck it! This is what fanfiction is for! Speaking of Chris he is about to have the most uncomfortable conversation with his parents. Don't do what he did cause no one deserves that talk.
> 
> I love writing Conner and I think this was my favorite time writing him. There is some self-projection in there and I am all for it.
> 
> Also someone please save Colin for he carries all the brain cells in this group. He is ten and knows he's not up for the BS that is going to be the next few days for him.
> 
> Thank you all for reading and feedback!


	30. Don't Drink the Green Kool-Aid

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The mission begins and it goes as well as the rest of Jonathan's life can go.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> School sucks but I'm pushing on! We're almost at 300k words and idk how the hell that happened, but I must live with this decision. 
> 
> Thank you all for still reading this, not only cause you like the story (probably) but because long fics are exhausting. I really appreciate it and knowing that someone enjoys what I'm making always makes this feel worth it! Thank you and sorry for the grammar errors!

Jonathan Samuel Kent knows that what he is doing is wrong. He knows that the small chance he can get Damian back in his life will be nothing compared to the fallout of his actions. Not only is he destroying the small amount of trust his family had in him, but he’s proving to his brothers that he’s not meant to be trusted. He knows for a fact that Kara will never let him out of her sights again. On a whim, Jonathan would be able to repress his consciousness to the point it appears one never existing, and for what? A boy who might not even want to be near him. 

There is also the fact that he hasn’t thought about what he was going to say to Damian once they meet. Jonathan could say a plethora of things to him for there was no shortage of words to be had, but then he imagines meeting him face to face again after all this time. He imagines coming face to face with Damian to find that he wasn’t the person he knew, or worse, the person he was when they first met. Jon is naive, but he isn’t foolish enough to expect everything to be alright just because he has his friend back.

When had he become so reliant on Damian to be the sole bearer of his happiness? Wasn’t there a time not so long ago that he was content by himself; where his worth as a person wasn’t fixated whether he had someone else in his life? What happened to Jon who was only happy as long as he had his family and friends?

Before he left Hamilton, Jonathan thought of Damian as a boy he wanted to be friends with. He was someone who needed a friend and hoped the two of them would become close one day. Now Damian is the thought in his mind that keeps him going. The face he imagines when he wants to be comforted. He is the voice in his head that talks to him when he’s lonely. Damian is what fills the emptiness that once held the semblance of normality in his lie. Damian is Jon’s new normal and he wasn’t ready to let that go.

Sure, there are more altruistic reasons he wants to see Damian, but those are overshadowed by the dominating factor that is Jonathan’s love. Telling people that usually have rather negative results so he learned it was best not to openly say it even though it’s glaringly obvious. No one can understand how much he loves Damian because they all simply think harbors a crush on him or a temporary fixation. The second-grader sees the looks and hears the comments made about the unusual devotion he holds towards the young assassin; he’s not blind. 

No, what Jonathan feels is a pure obsession. He needed Damian like Kryptonians needed the sun. While he could live without Damian he would be completely vulnerable without him in his life and that is not a life he wants to live. With every minute passing him by the sound of the tumultuous heartbeat draws closer causing his own heart to speed up in anticipation. 

The seven-year-old boy does his best to calm himself down because he needs to hold his composure for just a bit longer. Everyone tends to act weird around him when he expresses his emotions for his friend and he doesn’t know why. They tell him it’s inappropriate, yet no one will explain why to him. People think that he’s just supposed to understand because an adult told him it’s wrong, but Jon’s not a mindreader!

His concentration breaks as a startled snore cracks through the soft stagnant hum of the aircraft controls to find that his older brother finally awoke from his slumber. The dim blue light of the center console illuminates the deep contours of his face emphasizing the contours of his cheekbones. The teenager flickers his drowsy eyes several times as he raises both of his arms in the air to stretch himself followed by an exaggerated yawn. 

Jonathan is about to greet him when he sees Tim, who was previously frozen in the driver’s seat in front of the child, jolting in place as his neck almost snaps to the side person next to him. “Hi! I mean-” The lean teen nearly shouts before lowering his voice substantially so as to not wake up Colin and Jon, who he assumed were both still asleep. “Good morning.”

It still takes Conner a few moments to get his bearings together but eventually, he responds. “Sup Robin, sorry you had to see me like that.”

“It’s no problem at all. These things happen, right? I mean who hasn’t been excited about a mission before! I mean when I first became Robin I didn’t sleep for days after because of all the adrenaline pumping through me and I didn’t have anyone to talk about it with and my parents were still out of the picture- Not to make things awkward! I didn’t mean to bring them up but it just happened and I’m not over what happened with them since they just gave me up -AND I AM MAKING THIS WORSE. I’m just going to stop talking now!” The spandex-clad teen babbles as he tensely entangles his fingers through his neck-length hair as he attempts to refocus himself back to piloting the plane.

The taller teen shrugs, clearly not paying attention to the anxious teen’s ramblings, still rubbing the remaining sleepiness out of his eyes. “I totally wasn’t paying attention. Can you say that again?”

“It’s nothing!” Tim hisses quickly as he sighs in relief and relaxes his posture. “S-so how did you sleep? You hit your head pretty hard.”

“I slept pretty well since I knew that I was going to do this,” Conner explains as he shrugs off his black Metropolis University hoodie and unceremoniously tosses it over Tim’s lap. “Here, you’re shaking a lot and it’s kinda cold in here.”

Jonathan sneaks a peek at Tim through the front window to see that it looked like he either stopped breathing or is holding in a terrified scream. “T-thanks?” 

“No Prob. No problem? No problemo? I’m really freaking bad at talking to people.” He replies as he turns his head away from the other to look out the side window. “This view is amazing; look at all those tiny lights! I’ve never flown up this high before or at night. Dad never let me use my flying for anything besides grabbing books from my bookshelf.” Conner frowns as he’s reminded of his father but shakes the thought away. “Argh, forget him! I’m not only outside again but I’m going to fight ninjas with a real hero and my little brother! Speaking of which-” Jon promptly, for a reason he doesn’t understand, pretends to be asleep just as his brother turns around to glance at him. “Ooo, I should be quieter. Maybe I should have given my jacket to Jon cause he’s only wearing a t-shirt and shorts.”

“Y-yeah, you should.” Tim stutters out as he nervously takes the attire off of his lap and hands it to Conner.

Jon feels the heavy warm fabric being thrown atop his body and waits for a few seconds before opening one eye to make sure that the older males weren’t watching. He vaguely remembers this same fabric being used as his old cape at one point but doesn’t dwell on that fact for long. The more important issue at hand was to listen in on Conner and Tim because… because there was nothing else to do.

“Look at me, catching up on those big brother points I missed out on.” The younger teen declares triumphantly, crossing his arms. “Now Christopher got nothin’ on me!”

Tim releases an embarrassingly loud snort and immediately tries to stifle a laugh. “Pfft-! Sorry, I don’t mean to make fun of you. It’s just that my own brother talks about ‘Big Brother Points’ too. Is that a universal thing or do only dorky older brothers know about it?”

“Hey, I’m not a dork!” Conner whines playfully while nudging the other on the upper arm with his elbow. “And it’s something only cool older brothers are aware of! Chris has been stepping on my big brother game long enough! I discovered Jon was my little bro first but that guy has the unfair advantage of living with him! How can I compete with that?!”

“You shouldn’t make it a competition and isn’t Christopher your older brother too? I think he already has the handicap of looking after both of you.”

“And yet he’s winning!” He laments, animatedly throwing his hands up. “He’s so fucking good at it and that bitch has been in the world for less time than I was! How the Hell is he able to act so normal even though he spent his life in a government lab!? He was able to convince my dad to let me out for Thanksgiving! Not even Mercy could do that! I mean, I probably ruined it by going out and doing this but it still counts!”

Tim stays quiet in thought as Conner talks about the recently integrated Kent child with a distasteful sneer, doing his best to keep his composure. Honestly, his facade was almost perfect if it wasn’t for the fact Jonathan could see the tension on the right side of his lower jaw. He thought it was weird until he remembered that Chris didn’t like Tim very much as well. Jon guesses some people simply don’t like each other which is unfortunate.

“Who knows? Some people are just like that naturally.” The older teen says slowly as he flips several controls around him and unbuckles his seatbelt. “Since you’re awake this is probably the best time to explain the plan to you, though I have to warn you it’s a bit of a mess. My original plan was to infiltrate the island after giving Jonathan some time to train his powers but I had to push everything up last minute.”

“Well, it’s a good thing you got a professionally trained Kryptonian here to help you guys out!” Conner boasts puffing out his chest pridefully.

“And then there’s the addition of Colin, which I was not expecting, but now I have to work with.”

Conner turns around again, Jon shutting his eyes quickly, to look at the boy in the zebra onesie. “Oh yeah, so what’s his deal? Is he another hero or something?”

“He’s one of Jon’s friends,” Tim replies as Jon hears him spin his chair around to face him. “He was worried about Jon going alone and wanted to tag along.”

“Aww, that’s adorable!” Conner coos. “Robin, was your original plan to just take my little bro and go to an island of assassins by yourselves? And why don’t you have your team with you; You’re part of Young Justice and I’m sure they’re better for this than we are alone.” 

“I’m not about to put my teammates at risk for a personal mission.” He explains and Jon feels a hand run through his hair. “Besides, this will end with us all getting in trouble. There was no way to hide this and I’m just lucky this is Superman proof. They won’t be able to hear us until we open the lid of this plane.”

“So… Once we open this plane, every Super on the planet will come towards us at the speed of light to give all of us the grounding of a lifetime?”

“Only if we’re not quiet.”

“How quiet do we need to be because apparently Jon can hear heartbeats through a Superman proof room from the other side of the world?”

“That’s because Jon’s special,” Tim states casually. “Plus it will work to our advantage in the event we need a quick escape. The first step in the plan is to give Jon a crash course in discerning distances with his ears. Jon, why don’t you open your eyes for this conversation?”

Reluctantly Jonathan opens his eyes and shyly hugs the hoodie over the bottom half of his face as he stares at Tim and stunned Conner. “How long did you know I was awake?”

“Jon, I’m a detective, remember? You tensed up when I put my hand in your hair and your breathing was abnormal. ” He replies as though that answers his questions. “Besides, even if you weren’t awake it’s been almost ten hours since we embarked meaning that we’ll arrive at our destination soon.”

“Ten hours?” Jon asks in surprise while looking out his window. “But it’s still dark outside.”

“That’s because we’re flying the opposite direction from the sun,” Tim explains as the seven-year-old sits up in his seat. “We’re going to play a game to help you train your ears, okay?”

Jon nods his head and replies, “Okay.”

Tim stands up, straightening out his uniform, and heads out the door in the middle of the space between him and Colin as he gestures for Jon to follow him. Conner scrambles behind them to see where this would go. The young teen holds up his hand to gesture for Jonathan to halt at the doorway while he keeps walking down the empty storage room. Once he was at the end the male turned around and began to say something Jonathan couldn’t hear. Jonathan concentrated the muscles in his ears until he could faintly hear what Tim was saying.

“Can you hear me now?”

“YES!” Jon shouts in response.

“Okay, I’m thirty feet away from you. Now-” He stops talking and moves closer to Jon as he reaches into his golden utility belt to grab three pieces of colorful chalk. Every ten or so feet he marks the ground with one of them before finally marking the space directly in front of the boy with red. “Here’s how this is going to work. I will be walking around different places in this room and with your ears, you have to tell me if I’m in the red, yellow, or green zone. Do you think you can do that for me?”

The boy nods his head vigorously, and he feels Conner hold his shoulder and cover his eyes. “Just so ya don’t cheat.” He teases with a light chuckle.

“Hey!” Jon whines offendedly. “I’m not a cheater! Cheating is bad!”

“Okay, we’re going to start now!” Tim calls out. “Where am I?”

Jonathan scrunches his face in thought for a moment before hesitantly answering, “Green?”

“Red.” The vigilante corrects. “You reverted your hearing to normal without realizing it.”

“Oh.” 

“It’s fine, Jon.” He reassures calmly. The child hears Tim walk away for a couple of steps then stops again. “I’m in green right now! Tune your hearing until you can hear me as you did before!”

In all honesty, the entire ordeal became boring after a certain point because the pattern was rather monotonous. The two of them continued like that for a whole hour until Jonathan was able to correctly estimate where Tim was located. Jon didn’t understand the reason for doing all of this, but it was the first time someone has trained his powers for something. While he hoped that they would move on to his heat vision it was clear that they wouldn’t be doing that anytime soon when the hero stopped his training to head back into the cockpit.

Colin, who must have woken up sometime earlier, looked at the three of them as they sat back down in their seats asking, “What was that about?”

“We were playing a game to train my hearing!” Jon explains cheerfully as he hops onto his seat without buckling his seatbelt. “I wish we played a game to train my heat vision because yesterday Conner showed me his super amazing heat vision and I want to do that too!”

Conner, hearing this as he sat down in his seat, attempts to swivel his chair around but utterly fails. “Urgh! Stupid chair!”

“There’s a button,” Tim instructs as he points to a small black button on the side of the other teenager’s seat.

“Oh!” He presses the button and successfully turns around in his seat to face the younger boys. “I’d freaking love to teach you to train your powers, cause that’s what big bros are for, but… I don’t have any real training.”

“Really?” Jon asks in disbelief as he slips his arms through the sleeves of the hoodie he left on the seat and flapping his arms playfully. “Then how come you can control your powers?”

The teen turns his head to the far left to put emphasis on the glowing green piercings adorned on his ear left. “My Dad made this earring out of kryptonite that controls and represses my powers. When I use my powers I can just adjust the knob on my lobe and control how powerful it is.”

“Wait a darn second…” Jon hums as he tilts his head and holds his chin through the heavy black fleece. “I learned in a museum that green kryptonite is supposed to make you super sick and is a fun slide!”

“A slide?”

“It was part of the Superman exhibit in Metropolis,” Tim explains.

Conner merely shrugs and looks at Jon to answer his question. “Dad doesn’t like it either so he’s still looking for alternatives. I guess this is the best he can do for now unless someone else comes up with blueprints for a harmless Kryptonian power restrictor before he can.”

“Why does he want to do that? Powers are cool!”

“I dunno,” He shrugs again and leans back in his seat to fiddle with his earring while looking out the window. “He’s always tryin’ ta hold me back. It’s obvious he’s ashamed of me. That’s why he hid me away for so long, so I wouldn’t put a strain on the Luthor name. I bet if I didn’t sneak out the day we met no one would know I even existed; I’d be another one of Luthor’s mistakes when it came to Superman.”

“I’m so confused right now,” Colin whispers under his breath to himself.

Also very confused Jon looks at his older brother innocently and confidently tells him, “I don’t think you’re a mistake.”

“Easy for you to say.” Conner scoffs with a malice he’s never heard from the usually upbeat teenager, still facing the starry sky outside. “Your parents wanted you.”

The seven-year-old heart jumped at the cruel tone and his hurt must’ve been expressed on his face because the moment the teen glances his sky blue eyes back at Jon his own expression is filled with remorse. He opens his mouth to apologize but the redhead child beats him to the punch. “Hey! We all got parent problems, but that doesn’t mean you get to take it out on Jon because he’s in a better situation!”

“I know, I’m sorry-”

“Plus you say that like Luthor didn’t want you.” Tim interrupts with a deathly steady tone as he regains manual control of the aircraft. “I can’t speak for Superman, but I know that Luthor had a choice in your creation and what to do with you. He could have completely dismantled you for a new bioweapon or set you free as an anti-Superman measure, but he didn’t. He decided to take you in and raise you as his own.”

“You think I should be grateful for him growing a slight conscience and not making me a child soldier? That must’ve been so hard for him.” Conner drones sarcastically as he swivels his seat in their pilot’s direction.

“That’s not something I can answer, but I can say that he’s making more of an effort at being a good parent than some parents who choose to have a child. I don’t think he should be locking you away, but from the measures I’ve seen to just get into your room it’s clear he’s not trying to simply hide you but protect you.”

“Protect me from what? Superman already knows I exist so there’s no reason to hide me anymore!”

“The world I assume, but I’m not Lex Luthor so I can’t be sure of that statement.” Tim hypothesizes plainly. “Okay kids, we’re here! Does everyone remember the plan?”

“Nope.”

“What plan?” Colin asks.

“You never told us,” Jon states blankly looking up at the older boy in front of him as he squishes his face against the window to try and see Dami’s home. “It’s all dark and stuff down there. I don’t see an island!”

“Oh, sorry. I got sidetracked.” He announces as he reaches into the glove compartment between him and Conner as he grabs three familiar black and red-trimmed gi and tosses them at all of them. “Here are your disguises. Inside information has informed me that new recruits will be entering the island for training under Talia Al-Ghul, Damian’s mother. While we usually wouldn’t blend in this bunch is special because they all compose children under the age of seventeen meaning we wouldn’t be out of place.”

“Wait!” Jon interjects as he raises his hand politely.

“Yes, Jon?”

“You already gave me my Superboy shirt! Why do I have to wear a third shirt?” He asks as he pulls on both of the pieces of clothing he’s wearing.

“You’re the one who put both of them on. You only need to wear one of the shirts under the uniform.”

“Oh… Okay!” He agrees as he begins stripping his clothing so that he may wear the training clothes on properly.

Tim nods his head in approval and continues his elaboration. “Now once we’re inside I’ll lead us around while and you all must stay close behind. Jon, Conner, we’ll be relying on your sense of hearing to make sure we aren’t caught. Whatever you do, don’t leave my side.”

Colin raises his hand and the teen points at him to give the ten-year-old permission to speak. “So all we’re doing is sneaking around, finding Damian, and getting out, right?”

“That would be ideal, yes, but the first rule of a mission is that you never assume everything will go according to plan.” He laments with a dread tone. “Something will always go wrong, but our job is to mitigate the disaster so that we all remain safe. If something happens I expect Jon to use the button his family gave him to call them over and get you guys out of there.”

“But if we do that then we’ll be taken back home!” The Kryptonian hybrid protests as he pulls the martial arts gi over his head.

“That’s the point,” Tim explains. “If your life is put in immediate danger I’d rather have Supergirl burst in to choke me out than you get killed under my watch. Do you understand Jon?”

“But then we can’t save Dami-”

“Jon, it’s better to live another day and try again rather than be dead. Do you understand?”

Jon nods his head begrudgingly. 

“Good,” Tim replies, pleased by the compliance. “In the event of a worst-case scenario, Conner being unable to use any of his powers, Jon unable to press the button, Colin or I got captured, and all other options being extinguished there is one desperate measure we must resort to; The Nuclear Option.”

“And that would be?” Colin questions hesitantly as he tries to tie the red belt on his waist.

“Literally anything!” The vigilante boisterously declares as the aircraft dips down through a layer of clouds. “Crash a plane, beg for your life, kick Ra’s Al-Ghul in the balls, curse someone’s mother, get into a fight, start singing Disney songs, challenge someone to dance competition, blow up a laboratory full of scientists just doing their jobs, throw a chicken, adopt a child, make fun of someone’s face, JUST ANYTHING! Do anything and everything to preserve your life and identity so that you’ll have more time to live. Cause as much organized chaos as possible without regard for what might happen! Another unexpected cog in their system is another second you get to breathe! This is the worst-case scenario meaning you can do anything and the situation cannot possibly get worse than it already was. Do you understand?”

“Yes?” The fifth-grader responds puzzled by the concept. 

“This get-up makes me look like Dami when he’s practicing his cool kung-fu!” Jon says cheerfully as he randomly chops the air around him. “Hiya!”

“Thankfully the nuclear option is a last resort and we won’t have to go that far as long as you all do what I say. Especially you Jon.”

“Hey!”

“Jon, buddy, your parents put you on a leash for a reason.”

“Pfft, your parents put you on a leash?” Colin snorts jestingly.

“Don’t put Jon on blast,” Conner chastises without any steam. “Besides, it’s not like that piece of rope actually does anything. He still finds ways to get lost!”

“Hey- WOAH!” Jonathan shouts as he finally notices what must be Infinity Island on the horizon. 

It looked nothing like how he imagined it from Damian’s painting. Of course, he didn’t expect the view to be a one for one recreation of his imaginations since it was night time, but the sight he was met with was nothing he could have anticipated. On the horizon was a large island with volcanos illuminating the edges of the beach. In the center, surrounded by luscious dense wilderness, was a bustling town decorating the bottom of a tall intricate palace lit with countless torches. Greeting them at the front of the island was the most bombastic landmark of them all, a rock in the shape of a giant skull pouring lava through every orifice.

“Now THAT is an evil villain lair,” Colin comments as he presses his faces against the cool glass of his own window. “This would be so cool if it wasn’t for the feeling of looming death.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about cause this shit is totally cool because of the danger! This is the best thing that has ever happened to me!”

“Dude, how sheltered are you?” The older child inquires seeing the childish glee on the teen’s face as he nearly slams his half-dressed body against the front window.

“You know that movie Tangled?”

“The Disney movie?”

“Yeah, that one. That’s how sheltered.”

“Oof.”

“Guys, can you all finish changing!” Tim screeches as he does his best to keep his eyes forward.

“I don’t know how to put this on,” Jon declares loudly as he puts the shirt on backward.

“Neither do I.”

“Bruh, I was just gonna go all shirtless like an old kung-fu movie!” Conner proclaims as he ties the red cloth on his forehead.

Eventually, Tim lands the plane on a remote part of the island and dresses all of the children (including Conner) before he changes into his costume and leads them outside. They all simultaneously deeply inhale the fresh air and scratch out their bodies from the long plane ride. “Okay everyone, remember not to use your real names,” Tim instructs as he cracks his back.

“What if I forget?” Jon asks as he attempts to touch his toes and fails, only managing to grab his shins.

“Then say literally anything else that is not our real names. Does everyone remember our code names?” 

“I’m Superboy!”

“Abuse.”

“Are we going to talk about that-”

“Conner.”

“Got it, uh… Fuck, I forgot! I was Superboy last time! Jon and I can’t both be Superboy!” Conner firmly declares pointing between himself and his little brother. “One of us needs a new name.”

“Fine.” Tim groans as he thinks for a moment. “Conner, you’re Kon-El now. It’s easier for you to get the name change rather than Jon because it would be too confusing for him.”

The taller teen contemplates this name for a moment before grinning brightly. “Cool! What does it mean?”

“It’s Kryptonian slur that means ‘abomination’ but the ‘El part is Superman’s family name.” He explains as he walks into the forest holding Jonathan and Colin’s hands.

“Holy shit… That’s sick as fuck.” The teen states with a mixed expression of both elations and mild confusion. 

The group walks through the forest with no problems thanks to Tim’s leadership until they find their way to the back of the palace where they see a group of children being ushered inside. Carefully they manage to slip into the crowd without much hassle and Jonathan spends most of his attention staring at the tall entryway in wonderment. It was his first time walking into a real castle and the child was overcome with whimsy at every intricate detail carved into the wall, the shiny marble of the walkway, and the ornate tapestry depicting a story Jon is unfamiliar with.

Thanks to his experience reading picture books Jon doesn’t need to read to at least understand some of the stories moving past him. There was a lake made of Green Kool-Aid and people were bowing to it! The child’s throat suddenly feels dry as he remembers the last time he drank anything was the previous night and he turns his head to Tim, pulling his hand.

“I want to drink the green Kool-Aid!” Jon needily demands pointing at the wall scrolls illuminated by the blood-red candles around him. 

“What?” Tim asks under his breath as he keeps control of his calm demeanor. Royal blue eyes follow the direction of the small hand before he teen balks at the sight. “That is not Kool-Aid!” Tim hisses frantically as he pushes the fair arm down with his free hand. “Okay, new rule, if you see a green pool or any green liquid you don’t touch it! Don’t even look at it. Do not drink the green Kool-Aid.”

“Aww,” He pouts, still feeling thirsty. “Do they have any other drinks here?”

“No-”

“لذا ابق رأسك منخفضًا ولا تحدث أي جلبة” One of the guards shouts at them confusing Jonathan greatly. That’s when he remembered that Damian spoke any languages and this must be the one he’s used to speaking. 

“نا آسفة حقاً” Tim replies as he keeps his head down and motions for Jonathan to do the same. He turns to tell Colin and Conner, who are not holding hands but staying close to each other, to do the same thing and his happy to find that they caught on quickly. “No more talking until I say so.”

They make it several more steps into the palace when another guard, an assassin covered in green robes pulls Tim aside and points at his hands interlocked with Jonathan’s “دعهُ يذهب”

“آسف،نّه شقيقي-” The older teenager begins to explain frantically but the guard slaps him across the face for his loose tongue.

“أنا لا أهتم ولو قليلًا” The assassin says in a gruff and unforgivingly hostile manner. “انه ضعيف لكنه أخيك!”

“نعم يا سيدي” Tim replies as his expression becomes more solemn as he looks at Jon.

“ساعده في أن يصبح قوياً” The guard says in a commanding tone and it is at this point Jon wished he listened to Damian when he nagged at Jonathan about learning a new language. He is completely lost about what was happening. “أنت تدللين ذلك الصبي، وتلك هي المشكلة” 

“أنا أعتذر، لن يحدث هذا ثانية” The teen pleads as he lets go of Jonathan’s hand. 

The man points at Jonathan and says, “قل شيئا يا فتى!”

The child tilts his head at the funny-sounding words and politely asks, “I’m sorry, can you say that again?” 

Narrow eyes glare at Jon before turning their ire to Tim who has gone ten shades paler within the last ten seconds. “هل هو أحمق ؟”

“معذرة فهو لا يتكلم العربية” The teen says in a reluctantly meek voice.

“لكنه لا يتكلم العربية جيدا فما مقدار إتقانكم للغة الإنجليزية؟” 

“انه تعلم…” Tim announces unconfidently with an embarrassed shrug. 

The guard sighs and looks back at Jon, who cowers behind the taller male to hide from the stare which only brings the man more ire. “You, boy, are stupid, weak, and constantly need coddling from older brother, no?” 

Jon’s sky blue eyes widen as he’s finally hearing something he can understand from this man. It’s not nice but at least he can decipher words from his heavy accent. “Um… yes?”

Tim openly facepalms at the response and releases a loud sign as he looks behind him and notices that the group where Colin and Conner are walking is moving farther along without them. The lean boy turns back to the man desperately and urges, “أرجوك، دعنا نذهب... لاأعلم ماذا فعلنا لكن أرجوك دعنا نذهب”

“ويجب أن يعاقب مثل هذا السلوك بكل حزم.”

Without warning, or maybe there was a warning but Jonathan couldn’t understand what it was due to the language barrier, a large hand is raised and swiftly moves to strike the child in the face. He knows that this man can’t hurt him and therefore shows no sign of fear at the impending attack. For some reason, one Jon doesn’t understand, Tim kneels beside him and takes the hit for him.

“Ti-” Jon almost shouts before remembering he’s not supposed to use real names. “I mean-”

“عفوا عن أخي الصغير وعاقبني بدلا من ذلك!” He interrupts with a shout as he holds Jonathan closer to himself. 

The man glares down at the duo judgmentally and steps back as he cocks his head in the direction of the group. “التدريب سيكون عقوبة كافية للصبي الضعيف”

“شكرا جزيلا لك!” Tim gratefully says while still on his knees before taking Jonathan by the shoulders and rushing them back to the group.

Jon is about to ask what that ordeal was about but a finger placed on his lips silences him as Tim looks ahead pushing him along. They catch up to Colin and Conner, who are both nervous wrecks after watching what just happened and almost being separated from each other, and the four of them move with the herd of children for about fifteen more minutes until they reach a seemingly unguarded fork in the path. The older and younger kids split off into two groups and right before the four of them fall back as Tim hurriedly pulls them into a completely different hallway before the fork.

The second they’re out of sight they start sprinting away as fast as their legs can take them. Once they are far down the corridor and there are no guards in sight Tim taps the side of his ears and the young Kent brothers enhance their hearing to listen for footsteps and give a thumbs up when there were none to be heard. Everyone releases a sigh of relief and Colin’s knees drop to the floor from having gotten past the hurdle.

“Oh thank God!” The tall red-headed boy gasps as he clutches the front to his robe next to his heart. “What the fuck was that?!”

“You know, I thought awesome secret missions were supposed to be just busting in and kicking ass,” Conner asks as he entangles his fingers into his hair. “Not getting bitch slapped by ninjas!”

“All of you have potty mouths.” Jon frowns disappointedly at the two before turning to Tim. “Why did you take that hit for me? I would’ve been fine.”

“This is the League of _Assassins_. Any show of weakness is met with punishment and leading you by the hand or not knowing Arabic is one of them.” He explains as he rubs his reddened cheek. “Damian conditioned you to not flinch when you get hit which would have just pissed them off and worsened the punishment. They don’t like it when weakness is shown, but they hate it more when you’re not submissive to the superiors.”

“Oh…” He says as he looks down at his feet shamefully. He didn’t like that someone else had to get hurt because he couldn’t feel pain like normal humans. It was also jarring to realize that even though this place is beautiful it was also cruel. 

“Crap, none of us know Arabic! How the heck are we going to keep this up?! We are so dead! Why did I let you guys do this!?” Colin panics as his breathing rate rapidly increases as he clutches his chest tighter. 

Tim gets on one knee to match the boy’s eye-level and deliberately inhales and exhales at a significantly slower pace. “Breathe with me, and only focus on my face.” He instructs as he continues his breathing. 

“I-I can- I can’t-”

“It’s okay, you’re okay. Everyone is okay.” He says as he uses one of his hands to lift the boy’s chin up to look at him. “See? We are safe right now. Focus on me and the sound of my voice; Breathe in…”

Colin takes in a deep breath.

“Good, now breathe out.”

Colin exhales slowly.

The two of them repeat the process for a couple of minutes while Jon and Conner awkwardly watch, not knowing what to do in the situation. They don’t even know what’s happening, so they choose to just stay silent. Once whatever that was about is over with he lifts Colin up to sit on his forearm with only minor struggle then turns to the two half-Kryptonians.

“Okay, now we’re going to do our best to not run into anyone else. Kon-El, Superboy, We’ll be counting on you to lead us around to where Damian might be located. Kon-El, your job is to listen for any signs of life that might be approaching us at. Breathing, footsteps, voices, or whatever else that would be able to jeopardize our mission. Superboy, you lead the way to Damian since you’re always listening for him. I’ll lead us around. Remember to never leave my side no matter what; understand?”

“Got it!” The brothers cheer at the same time.

Jonathan focuses his hearing on Damian’s heartbeat and points in the direction he hears it. The process was slow and monotonous as the four of them scurry through the labyrinth that is the Al-Ghul familial home. Jonathan would point in the direction he heard the heartbeat, Conner would notify them if there was someone around them, and Tim would choose a pathway to go down. It’s clear that the vigilante memorized the layout of the palace with how easily he is able to navigate the maze-like structure. 

All and all everything was going smoothly. Jon knew they were getting closer to his friend and his anticipation was utterly palpable. They could see the sunrise on the horizon through many of the countless windows meaning that there would be more guards on patrol. Tim did voice his concern about this, but they were close to finding their target so it didn’t matter in the end.

They are about to round the corner into another hallway when Tim pulls them back and motions for everyone to cover their mouths. Jonathan shook with visible impatience because he can hear Damian! He’s right behind one of the doors in that hallway! They were almost there!

“Superboy, hush!” Tim whispers sternly.

They hear a firm knocking at one of the doors and a smooth feminine voice say, “ابني”

“أجل يا أمي, ما هو ؟” They hear the familiar voice of Damian reply, and both Tim and Conner had to stop Jonathan from leaping out and blowing their cover by holding him back.

“هناك دخيل في القصر”

“-Tt- وهم في حالة حمقاء” Jonathan might not know what the heck is going on but he knows an insult when he hears one! That was definitely not a nice thing to say. “هل هذا كل شئ؟”

“أجل، أجل، بالطبع، بالطبع…” The woman says and they hear the distinct clack of high heels hitting the tiled floor move away from them. 

The group waits a few more moments and Jon is about to leap out again to tear that freaking door down when he hears Damian speak again but in the language he can understand. “Richard! Stop your lollygagging and hurry up!”

“Lollygagging?” Colin mouths judgmentally at Jon who shrugs weakly.

“Dami, I’m already up! What more do you want?” Another familiar voice echoes through the halls and the seven-year-old looks up at Tim who has gone white in the face.

“Why is Dick here and using my nickname!?” Jon whispers, green with envy only to have his mouth covered by his older brother.

“Richard, mother has informed me of an intruder in the vicinity. They wouldn’t happen to be your compatriots, would they?”

“They better not be the Titan's cause that would mean they got caught!”

“Like you?”

“In my defense, I did it on purpose.”

“-Tt- Sure you did.” There’s a rattling of chains and the sound of heavy footsteps heading the same direction as the heels.

Tim drags his hand down his face with an exasperated sigh muttering incoherently to himself. The youngest of the group pulls the bottom of his shirt pleadingly as he bounces on the ball of his feet. “Robin, Robin! Dami is right there! He’s right there! Let’s go to him now-!”

The teen holds his hands up to interrupt Jon mid-sentence as he pinches the bridge of his nose. “Jon, he might be right there but that doesn’t mean he’s within reach. The situation just became a tab bit more complicated. There is a chance that the Titans are also in the vicinity doing the same thing we’re doing and/or another intruder we haven’t anticipated being here.”

“Or we got caught.” Colin declares pessimistically. 

“Yo, why the fuck is your big bro here too?” Conner questions as he peeks his head around the corner.

“My guess is that he wanted to take Damian and run, but he got captured,” Tim explains. “If the Titans aren’t here then we have another mission to rescue Nightwing.”

“Sweeeeet~!” The larger teen squeals in delight before coughing and quickly regaining his composure. “I mean, oh noooo…”

“It’s fine.” The other teen reassures as he looks at the retreating figures. “It looks like we can hit two birds with one stone. For some reason, Damian has taken to dragging Nightwing around by a chain which… is kinda weird but okay. Since the two of them are going to be together if we can pinpoint where they’re going to be we might be able to capture them both. Superboy, I’ll need you to-” Tim begins to instruct only to look down and notice that the boy isn’t there. “Kon-El.”

“Yeah, Robin?”

“Where’s Superboy?” He inquires nervously with a high pitch as if he was trying to hold back a violent scream.

Colin, already anticipating the answer, slaps both of his palms to his face and groans loudly without any regard for who might hear them.

“Yeah, he’s right here-... FUCK I LOST HIM!” Conner panics throwing his hands up and the ten-year-old quickly shushes him. “Oops sorry. Is this how you guys feel when this happens?”

“Yeah, pretty much.” Colin nods as he covers his eyes. “We took our eyes off him for literally a second! We should have freaking tied him to us!”

“Let’s calm down, he couldn’t have gotten far and we already know that he’s going after Damian. We just have to follow them and hopefully, we’ll see or hear Superboy.”

Meanwhile, Jonathan wasn’t going to wait because there was no reason to wait when the reason he even came here was only a few feet away! He decided that he was going to go into the hallway parallel to the one Damian went down and eventually meet him halfway. It was probably fine because he wouldn’t be too far away from where they’re going anyways and technically would be still with the group! This was a full proof plan if Jon’s ever seen one!

He’s about to turn right to intercept Damian in the other hallway when he crashes face-first into another person who was only a bit taller than him. He hears a girly yelp as the other person hits the floor and Jon’s heart sinks as he realizes that he probably hurt someone in his haste. Jon quickly gets up to see a kid wearing the same uniform as him on the ground rubbing her head and he stretches a hand out to help the dark-haired girl with brown skin get up.

The little girl looks up at Jon with olive-green eyes and hesitantly takes his hand. “I’m really sorry about that! I was in a hurry and-”

“You know I speak English?” She asked wide-eyed as her eyes became fixated on their interlocked hands.

“Uh… I guess I do now.” Jon answers confused. “I’m sorry, I don’t know any other language and Dami is always on my butt about it.”

“Dami?”

“Yeah! My best friend Damian! Speaking of Damian I gotta go find him!” He announces as he lets go of the girl and makes a move to run off down the hall when she grabs his forearm. 

“Wait, hold up!” She demands, holding him back. “You know where Damian Al-Ghul is?”

“Yeah, I always know where he is and I gotta go!” He says as he tries to pull free from her grip with no luck. “Can you please let go of me?”

Her grip only tightens as she glares at him before smiling at Jon menacingly. “You’re an intruder.”

All the color from Jonathan’s face drains in an instant as he’s filled with immediate regret. He got separated from the group in less than a minute and he already jeopardizes the mission. Maybe this is why his parents gave him a leash. 

“No, don't be alarmed! This is a good thing; I’m one too!” She says excitedly as she runs a dry hand through her neck-length hair that’s held back by a thin white headband. “You’re really lucky that you ran into me. If it were anyone else, then you would have been dead twenty times over by now!”

“Really?” Jon asks cautiously while he tries to decipher if she’s lying. 

“Yeah!” She nods eagerly and clasps his other hand into hers. “You can’t run around and expect to not get captured. That’s why I can help you and you can help me! We have the same goal!”

“You wanna find Dami too?”

“Yep! And I memorized his schedule.” She boasts with a conniving grin. “Even so, he’s hard to pin down and there are many guards around.”

The little boy contemplates this for a moment before almost immediately welcoming this strange girl with open arms. “Okay! We can also meet my other friends and brother and we can all help each other. They shouldn’t be too far from Dami either!”

The two of them begin walking hand in hand to the direction Damian headed when Jonathan suddenly remembered he never asked for her name which was very rude of him. “My name is Jon!” he says, completely forgetting about his superhero name. “What’s your name?”

The girl looks down at him and rolls her eyes lightheartedly replying, “You don’t have to worry about that, Jon. I’m just a Nobody.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I would like to thank my freshman year Arabic teacher for nothing because I felt like I learned nothing from having to do all this. I like it when another language is written in that language because I get to feel like I don't understand anything like I would in real life. I just batched an entire language but at least I did it on my own. If anyone knows Arabic... I'm so sorry but my American keyboard and the barely opened textbook tried their best.
> 
> Someone, not gonna name names, once asked if Maya was going to be in this fic but that person now has an answer!
> 
> Also someone please save Jon from himself because he is only seven and not even a smart one.
> 
> Thank you, guys! Next time the mission continues with Superboy and Nobody trying to find Damian! Also, y'all are observant and have probably noticed this but Dick and Damian have been doing their own thing in the meantime! 🙃


	31. Jon Drinks the Wrong Kool-Aid

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jonathan and his new acquaintance make some interesting discoveries while investigating Damian's home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always thank you for reading and sticking with me! I really appreciate all your kind words and support! I hope you enjoy this mess of a chapter I wrote clearly high. (On life. I don't do the drugs. 😎)

Jonathan Samuel Kent happily trots along the border of the palace Damian lived in with his new companion that wouldn’t give him her name. Jon probably should have done the same thing, but there was no way it would matter. The girl was a kid just like him which means that there was zero chance of her wanting to do anything terrible. Though he would at least like to call her something because to refer to her as “stranger” or “girl” is extremely rude. If Clark and Lois Kent taught their baby boy anything, it would be not to be rude to anybody.

“Do you have a nickname?” He asks as he pulls them along in the direction of Damian’s heartbeat. His acquaintances make a quiet sound of bafflement from the back of her throat as she quirks an eyebrow at him, so Jonathan elaborates further. “You know, your name, silly!”

He is quickly shushed by the older girl who replies with a curt, “It doesn’t matter!”

“But I can’t just call you nobody or-”

“Yes, you can.” She states clearly. “Call me Nobody.”

That was weird but if that’s what she wants then who is Jonathan to argue with someone over what they want to be referred to as. They make their way through the halls, Nobody ducking them behind corners every now and then for seemingly no reason, and down several flights of stairs. Everything was being handled extremely well all things considered, but the closer the younger boy got to his friend the more he became noticeably restless.

It got to a point where he was squeezing Nobody’s left hand with a grip strong enough to wince at. “Ow!” She yelps as she yanks her hand out of the boy’s smaller hand and shakes it to relieve the pressure. “Take it easy, would ya?! What the heck is your problem?”

“Sorry!” Jonathan apologies as he takes her nearly bruised hand back into his own and blows on it.

Utterly puzzled by this development Nobody allows this odd behavior to continue for a few more seconds before he yanks her hand to her chest. “Uh… What are you doing?”

He tilts his head to the side, some of his messy ebony hair falling in front of his face, and stares at her with an innocently open expression. “I’m blowing the pain away!” He answers as if his words were common facts. “It’s something my mom taught me to do when I was little to help me when I got hurt but… I haven’t been hurt in a long time to do it to myself, and when someone else or I was, I wasn’t able to blow on it because it was really bad.”

“How is blowing on it gonna help?” She asks as her olive eyes do their best to look anywhere except the slightly shorter child.

“It’s actually supposed to be kissing the pain away, but kissing is kinda gross-”

“Got it, say no more.” Nobody immediately holds up both hands then takes a large step away from Jon, disgusted. “Is Damian Al-Ghul still below us?”

“Yep! He’s in green right under us! That means about thirty feet away!” Jon describes while pointing underneath his feet and slowly traversing his finger along the floor as Damian moves. “I don’t get why we have to follow so far behind! I bet my friends are already right behind him.”

When he looks back up the half-Kryptonian notices that she’s holding half a mask up to her face and staring at something inside the white mask with three magenta eyes on the side. Jon teeters side to side on the tips of his feet around the girl’s uniform however he can’t find any place she would have hidden such a bulky object. He is about to inquire about the whereabouts of the mask when she reaches into the front of her gi to pull out what seems to be a large smartphone that encompasses the entirety of her hand. Jon experimentally reaches into the front of his shirt to test the limitations of its carrying capacity, but his palm is bulky enough to make a noticeable bulge.

“It appears that Damian Al-Ghul is currently in the processes of attending to his beast Goliath, meaning if we want to catch him-”

“That’s great!” Jon cheers as he grabs Nobody’s hand and begins to run to the stairs only to be roughly pulled back.

“As I was saying,” Nobody hisses through gritted teeth. “Meaning that if we want to catch him now would be the worst time unless you want to fight a monster the size of a monster truck.”

“But Dami wouldn’t hurt me and neither would his pet because-”

“Are you sure about that?” She scoffs flippantly while waving her hand away. “If you’re really Damian Al-Ghul’s  _ friend  _ then you should know he’s not above hurting anyone; including someone who calls themself his best friend.”

Jonathan goes to protest, to defend his friend, but realizes that his voice wouldn’t create the words necessary to do that. He knows that even though Damian promised not to hurt him the older boy already has, and Jon didn’t know whether or not he would do it again. He’s already lost his trust in his best friend and that realization hurts more than when he was stabbed in the throat.

He’s lost his trust in so many people already that he didn’t think it could get worse; he didn’t think one more betrayal would affect him. That’s what ended up happening though, right? Dami broke his trust by leaving him without a word. Lied to him about how everything was fine. He purposely tried to block him out. Jon knows that he’s a little too enamored with his friend, but that was fine right? Jon loves him and Dami said he loved him back so it was fine! It was fine because maybe they didn’t need trust as long as they still care about each other.

They can work on their issues and then everything will be perfect again. He’ll convince Damian to come back with him where they’ll continue to move on like Damian didn’t do what he did. That’s what he should be doing-

“Jon, you okay?” 

“Huh?” Jon blurts out due to the interruption of his quickly spiraling thought process.

Nobody was shaking his shoulder with her equipment having disappeared from her person to who knows where with a concerned expression on her features. “You, like, totally blacked out there and your eyes got weird. I know you got powers or whatever since you didn’t have a device on you to track Damian, but you got weird.”

That was odd, Jon doesn’t remember blacking out because he didn’t have any visions. “What do you mean?”

“You looked like you were thinking too much and your eyes started glowing-”

“Red? That’s normal-”

“No, they glowed yellow.” She corrects causing Jonathan to jolt back in surprise.

“That is weird! I don’t remember anyone in my family having glowing yellow eyes!” He agrees both excited and curious about what that could mean for him. “I hope that's a good thing!”

The dark-haired girl stares at him conflictingly for a few more seconds before she snaps herself out of whatever thoughts were running through her head. “Riiiight. Anyways if you want to catch up to your friend it’s best we do it at another time. Since it appears that his free hour is going to be occupied by his pet we should strike at a different time such as before his check-up in the labs or during his private training time after dinner.”

“But that's so loooooooooooong!” Jon groans dejectedly while throwing his hands down. “Why does everything have to be so hard and take forever?”

“It’s called patience.” Nobody says tiredly. “My dad taught me that the key to getting your target is patience. You must push back all urges and wait for the best time to make your move because that is when victory will be the most satisfying.”

“You sound a lot like Dami.” The child notes as he does his best to repress the desire to storm down. “So what the heck are we supposed to do?”

Nobody crosses her arms and glances at the black marble floor in thought then suddenly snaps her fingers. “We scout out future locations to ensure the target won’t escape.”

“That’s a great idea!” Jon cheers with his arms spread wide. “I love exploring new places and Dami is always telling me how wonderful his home is!”

“Sure, exploring, that’s what you can call it.” She nods and grabs onto Jonathan’s wrist. “I’ll lead this time. First, we head to the labs then we’ll go to the Al-Ghul’s personal training area.”

“Oooo, I’ve never been to a lab before! My brothers were in labs and-”

“Yeah, sure, that’s great.” Nobody unenthusiastically cuts off as she begins to pull him along past the stairs. “Do us both a favor and shut your trap unless you want me to do it for you.”

Well, that wasn’t very nice.

Jonathan opens his mouth to give her a piece of his mind but is yanked out a window and where he first enjoys the view of an amazing sunrise before noticing that he’s being dangled several stories above a roaring rapid. He nearly screams in shock but Nobody slaps her palm over his mouth, the tips of her fingers of her other hand on the ledge being the only thing keeping them from plummeting below. She commands him to shut up and Jon hears a jumble of soft food steps walk past them. Nobody presses her shoulder to her right ear and Jon sees the faint red glow of light from something inside her. Jon is about to try and ask what it was but his answer comes to him quicker than he could question.

“Troia, are you sure this is where the device says he is?” A familiar voice Jon can’t quite place asks an unseen accomplice.

“Flash, common, you know as well as I do that Batman chips all of his kids with the most advanced technology on the planet. If Nightwing isn’t around here then I’ll eat my boots.” Another obviously feminine voice replies that’s when Jonathan remembers who they are. He met them at the JLA picnic; he even got their autographs!

“Does anyone else think it’s kind of creepy that he does that? I know we’re heroes but keeping track of his son (His very adult son) with a chip in the back of his neck is a new level of extra.”

“Get over it Wally, that chip is what’s helping us find Nightwing so how about you stop complaining.” A new person groans followed by the sound of a light smack.

“Raven, you’re so mean.” Flash whines. “Why did we split up again? We’re just asking to get captured by splitting groups.”

“What part of League of  _ Assassins _ do you not understand?” Troia asks extremely judgemental of her teammate. “Star said that it’s better we don’t walk around like one giant target!”

“I bet I can clear this place in ten seconds flat! What’s stopping me from running around, grabbing Nightwing, and pulling a Jesus back to the tower?”

“Can you please stop calling running on water, ‘Pulling a Jesus’?”

“I’m not wrong!”

“Guys, quiet! This is supposed to be a stealth mission.” Raven sighs and Jon can hear that the group is almost out of the hallway. “Besides, we need to grab files and do recon- Hold up, my com is flashing.”

“Eeeeyy-”

“Wally!”

“Guys!” Raven snaps before answering her communicator. “Beast Boy, what wrong? Did you get captured again?”

“It was one time!” Beast Boy protests.

“It was more than once.” Troia objects.

“I can count at least three times off the top of my head,” Flash notes humorously.

“You guys suck!” Their comrade exclaims through the communicator. “Anyways, Cyborg wanted me to tell you that the Justice League is freaking out! Apparently, Robin went freaking nuts and kidnapped Superman’s son!” Jonathan immediately goes stiff at the announcement which didn’t go unnoticed by the girl carrying them. “Not only that but he also stole one of Lex Luthor’s experiments from a secret project or whatever. I didn’t get too much information on that second one but it sounds like serious business. Superman is calling in everyone in Justice League to Young Justice.”

There is a poignant silence among the group while Jon is contracting a miniature heart attack. After the pause, Wally is the first one to regain his bearing and asks, “Okay, that is seriously bad news, but we’re in the middle of something. We’re more than willing to help but we also have to rescue Nightwing.”

“Dude, I don’t know! I’m just supposed to pass on what was told to me. He also said to keep an eye out for them because they could literally be anywhere on the planet.”

“Okay, we’ll join the search party after we get Nightwing. Raven out.” She ends the call and closes her communicator while her footsteps quickly fade away into the distance along with her companions. 

Before they can completely fade away from Jonathan’s range of hearing he is able to make out the Flash asking, “Does this mean I can pull a Jesus?”

Nobody lifts the two of them back up and drops Jonathan to the floor with a scowl. “What the heck is up with today! Can’t a girl get one mission done without a million other people trying to step on my game?! First that Nightwing guy gets close to my target making it harder to get him alone, then you and whatever group you’re with come here for God knows what, and now the freaking Titans are here!”

“Uh…”

“At least their goal is to take out each other but that just means we have to be more sneaky, right?” She says as her scowl quickly morphs into a delightful smile.

It unnerved Jonathan greatly though he wasn’t about to voice his concern when Nobody pulled him back up to his feet and walked him to their destination. He doesn’t know why the atmosphere around them suddenly shifted, but it was better and Jonathan learned to not question a good thing. The duo continues to move through the corridors, being mindful of guards and the occasional servant, when the black marble timed turns into pristine stainless steel. 

By the time Jonathan got there he was panting due to the lengthy path they had to take. He knew castles were gigantic but this was becoming ridiculous! He’s sure that the two of them haven’t even come close to seeing half the palace let alone the entire thing. “This place is huge!”

“It’s built into a volcano, of course, it’s going to be huge.” Nobody explains as she reaches into her shirt and pulls out her weird half of a mask. This was distinct from the other one the seven-year-old saw her put on earlier because it went on a different half of her face. Jonathan is beginning to wonder if he’s just the only kid in the world that can’t magically pull random objects from his clothes. “Coast is clear. Whatever you do, don't touch anything.”

“Understood!” Jon nods in agreement and the little girl reaches into her robe again and pulls out a weird pen that she stabs into the side of a keypad next to the door they were in front of. Nobody pulls out an entire tablet from her person and nimbly types a series of numbers the young hybrid doesn’t understand before the door is raised into the ceiling. The older girl swiftly puts all of her equipment back into her robe and pulls Jonathan inside the lab right when the door falls back down with a harsh unforgiving slam.

Jonathan winces at the noise but gets over relatively fast as a sight greets him straight out of a science fiction movie. The floor was composed of metal grates that drain into unknown darkness with small circular lights embedded into them sparingly. While the ceiling was shadowed in complete darkness, he could make out countless colorful heavy wires and clear tubes swinging from the abyss. Some of the clear tubes were not clear at all but instead were pumping a toxic bright green that filled a series of glass chambers that trail the border of the spacious room. The little boy presses his face against the front of one of the filled cylindrical chambers and peers closely at the violently moving liquid; bubbling against the glass like a freshly poured soda. 

“What is this place?” He questions as he slaps the surface with the front of his hands before sliding down with an irritating squeak.

“This Damian Al-Ghul’s healing chamber. Or at least it’s one of these freaky things.” Nobody explains, rapping the back of her knuckles against one of the empty units. “Recently, if my scouting is to be trusted, the heir to the Demon’s Head recently suffered a significant injury to his heart and is required to come here for diluted does what is called Lazerus water- WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!”

Jonathan, who has somehow found the latch to the door and pulled on it, stops what he was doing to look at the older girl with a dumbfounded expression. “I’m trying to get some green kool-aid.”

“Wh- NO!” She shouts tackling Jonathan out of the way and onto the cold floor, pinning his arms down. “How- why do you think that is green kool-aid?! Why would a place like the League of Assassins even have that?!”

“Cause Dami likes grape kool-aid.” Jon states with the conviction of a man telling the meaning of life. “I don’t know what flavor green kool-aid is but I think it's a green flavor and Dami really likes green.”

“You…” Nobody begins to say but stops herself with a long exasperated sigh. “Jon, that is not green kool-aid. It’s Lazerus water which, according to this cult, is a liquid that heals people who are sick and kill those that are healthy.”

“So… it’s magical kool-aid.”

“...Yes.” She sighs shaking her head exacerbated by the analogy. “Magic kool-aid that heals all wounds and makes people slowly lose their minds since that’s what you think kool-aid does.”

Jon nods his head sternly but his expression tells that he has no idea what she was talking about. “How can kool-aid make people lose their minds? Is it like when I eat too much sugar and can’t sleep because all I want to do is run around and play, but my dad says I have school and need to sleep on time like a good boy? He calls it going bananas which also doesn’t make any sense because the fruit is supposed to make you healthy I don’t think going bananas is a good thing-”

“Oh my God can you please stop!”

“But you didn’t answer my question!”

“How could I answer your question when you don’t stop talking!” Nobody shouts running her callous hands through her hair. “It’s fine, sorry. Okay.” She takes in a few deep breaths before speaking again. “According to their sacred texts the Lazerus water is this chemical that heals all wounds but it also causes enough trauma to deteriorate the mind with every use. That means the more you use the water to heal yourself the less your mind will stay intact until the body dies OR you become a lobotomized husk.” Sky blue eyes stare at her blankly for a few moments and Nobody elaborates. “That means you stop being a person and just a body without a will or thought.”

“But you said that Dami goes in that water!” He protests pointing to the various chambers filled with the glowing green water. “Why would they do that to him if it will make Dami go crazy and not be Dami?”

Nobody shrugs and replies, “I don’t know. Maybe they don’t care or the Al-Ghuls think that they’re immune. Heck, maybe they want their heir to be a mindless husk of a person; it would be easier to control than the spoiled brat I’ve been observing.”

“Hey!”

“Oh come off it, Jon. He totally is one.” She scoffs as she pushes herself off the floor. “Besides, I’m joking. What kind of family would do that to a kid?”

Jon blinks slowly to think about what was said and pushes himself off of the floor as well. “Maybe… Maybe they want him to not be Dami.”

Now it’s Nobody’s turn to be lost as she looks at Jon like he grew three heads. “What?”

“Maybe that’s their plan, to get rid of Damian’s mind.” Jon embellishes, holding the side of his head, feeling as though it’s suddenly stuffed with cotton. “H-he… Argh!”

“Wow Jon, don’t go giving yourself a headache thinking too hard.” Nobody drones sarcastically with her arms crossed.

But the young boy wasn’t listening because all he could hear was screaming. Countless lives being lost and heartbeats being stopped in their tracks. Jonathan covered his ears to try and stop the horrible awful noises, yet it was no use. He could still hear the distant screams as if they were in the same room as him. “Dad! Daddy make it stop! Make it stop!”

“Jon, it’s going to be okay! You’ll be fine.” Chris coos while he tries to comfort his little brother, cradling him in his arms and rocking the boy back and forth. “Dad will be back soon! He’s going to help Dami just like you want okay?”

“Chris, what the fuck is going on! You’re supposed to be patrolling Metropolis!” Kon-El complains as he flies through the window of Jonathan’s room. “I’m working double in Gotham and Kara is-”

“Dammit Kon, can’t you see I’m busy!” The brunet snaps before going back to the child on his lap. “Jon, it’s going to be okay. Can you turn off your hearing for me?”

He shakes his head even though his hands are covering his lobes. “Nu! Then I won’t be able to hear anything!”

The boy hears an annoyed sigh from his younger older brother and the weight at the end of his mattress shift down. “Jon, come on buddy, you can’t keep doing this. You’re never going to be a cool hero if just listening in on the action gets you this upset.”

“He’s just a child!” Chris argues, holding Jon away from the other. “You can’t expect him to be okay with everything just because he’s one of us!”

“Dude, quit acting as if you care about him!” The young teen shouts as he scots back and leans against the wall. “Where were you when that poisoning shit went down? Where were you for him when Lois kicked the bucket-”

“Shut the hell up!” Christopher snaps again standing up from the bed with Jon who clutches onto the front of his navy shirt. “Stop trying to put the blame on me, she was my mother too! I’m trying to keep this family together, you inconsiderate asshole!”

“Oh yeah?” Kon scoffs with mocking disbelief. “I’m the asshole? You’re the one always off with that bitch of yours I’m surprised you even remember to come home at all-”

“Don’t you dare call Thara a bitch-”

“Well, she has to be something to make you forget about us-”

“I didn’t forget! I’m just busy-”

“Daddy did it!” Jon announces as his entire body brightens up, ignoring the argument of his siblings. “I can hear him! Daddy is going to save Dami and Tim!”

Kon immediately jumps from the bed and is nearly halfway out the tiny apartment window as soon as the words left his mouth. “Woah, wait, no one told me Tim was in trouble! What the fuck is happening!?”

Jonathan focuses his hearing on Damian and his Father’s location so that he would be able to hear more of what was going on. It takes him a while to make sure everything was alright since his super-hearing only recently came into fruition, but eventually he begins to make out specific voices.

“Pity the new detective isn’t here to witness what is about to transpire. This would have been a test of his convictions; to see where his loyalties lie.” A low voice croaks, sounding like they have to struggle to get words out of their dry throat.

“What do you want with the boys Ra’s? Why did you kill all of these people?” Superman interrogates with an utterly disgusted tone.

“Seeing as the new detective is taking his sweet time saving his recently acquired charges I’ll indulge you for a while.” The old man retorts. “You see, my body has reached a point of no return. Not even the Lazarus pits can help me now which has to lead me to the conclusion of acquiring a new one. I was hoping the new detective could help me choose which one would be best for my superior mind.”

There’s an overwhelming silence between the two of them in stark contrast to the vehement noise minutes before. It’s finally broken when Jon hears his Dad take in a sharp breath. “You… You want to use their bodies! You monster! Damian is your grandson and Tim is a child-”

“He has youth and one of the most attractive minds on the planet. He would make a perfect host and although I regretfully have to turn him into my mindless husk for the procedure to work it is a sacrifice I’m willing to make.”

“You sick fu-”

“Oh please, tell me something I haven’t heard before.”

“He wants his body.” Jon gasps with wide eyes before completely panicking. “HE WANTS HIS BODY!”

Nobody blinks her olive orbs at Jon with absolute confusion. “Um… Jon?”

“Some old man wants Dami’s body-”

“Jesus Christ Jon, do you ever think before you speak?” She groans holding her hands in her face.

Jon rapidly blinks and shakes his head as he comes back to reality. “Sorry, I forget that people can’t read my mind, so I’ll be thinking about something and then I’ll comment on the thing I was thinking about which confuses people because they can’t read my mind.”

Nobody stares at him for a couple of seconds then asks, “So do you want to explain what that was about or…”

“Maybe later because that means we gotta find this old man first.” He explains with a calm smile.

“Okay then.” She exhales in relief and reaches inside her clothing to grab a handful of small circular devices that were no larger than her thumb. “Now, don’t go drinking Lazerus water and DON’T TOUCH ANYTHING!”

“Okay!”

Unfortunately for Nobody Jonathan’s ability to retain simple directions is completely overshadowed by his natural curiosity. He runs around with his arms outstretched weaving between glowing the glass chambers while making airplane noises with his lips until he almost crashes into one of many hard to see tables in the laboratory. He opens the drawer to find empty reusable juice pouches which are weird, but he guesses that even assassin Doctors need to drink too.

The boy sticks his tiny hands into the drawer and takes one of the empty pouches when he feels his fingertips touch a pouch that was filled with something. He grabs it and teeters off to one of the floor lights to examine the contents of the juice pouch to find that it was completely clear like water. Jonathan places the empty bag he took earlier into his robe, right where it was tied against his shirt so it wouldn’t fall, and continues to examine the filled juice bag. It was a strange juice bag with letters written in a language he doesn’t understand, but knows it’s Arabic due to that one time Damian tried to make him read an entire binder of the stuff.

It also has a lid on one side and two straws on the other side making Jon wonder if he’s supposed to share this with someone to drink. Now, Jonathan is smart to know not to drink things strangers give him due to past experiences but he’s giving this to himself and he hasn’t drunk anything in a long time. He hasn’t eaten either but drinking water usually helps with that. With his flawless logic solidified in his brain, he rips off one of the sippy straw caps from the juice pouch and immediately drinks it.

It is only halfway through his drink does he wonder if what he’s actually drinking is not water, but throws away such thoughts as he takes time to take what he’s consuming. It feels like water, smells like water, and tastes like water; therefore it must be water. Lucky him for not accidentally poisoning himself again.

Nobody jumps down from the shadow of the rafters, clapping her hands together to rid herself of some dust, and smiles at herself for a job well done. Her cheerful demeanor does not last long when she notices Jon on the floor casually drinking mystery liquid from an IV bag like it was a Capri Sun. “I WASN’T EVEN GONE FOR TEN MINUTES!”

“Wha?” Jon blurts out dumbly with the straw still around his lips.

“I told you not to touch anything!”

“It’s just water.” The boy shrugs as he finishes the bag with the loud slurp that can only be accomplished when at the finish line of a drink. He sucks on the bag for a bit longer as his new acquaintance stares on in horror before he stands back up and looks for a place to properly dispose of the pouch. 

Nobody quickly snatches the container out of his hands and takes out both sides of her mask and tablet while scanning the bag with a cool blue scanner emitting from the technology. “Jon, this stuff is supposed to go in your blood, not your stomach! What if it’s poison?!”

“Don’t worry! I drank lots of poison before, and it doesn’t taste like milk!” Jon reassures her as he stands closer to her and wow, when did Nobody get so tall? Before she was only a bit taller than Jon with his head reaching about the middle of her forehead, but now his head doesn’t even reach her nose. “Were you always this tall?”

“What- OH MY GOD, JON!?” The new acquaintance scratches as she gets on her knees and pats down his body furiously, pushing him into the light for closer examination. “Jon what the heck! Yo-you’re- you-!”

“I’m what?” Jon asks curiously then, with a terrifying realization, clasps his throat with both his hands. His voice! “Why do I sound higher!?”

“Jon, where did you get that bag!” Nobody demands, shaking him back and forth.

The little boy points to the table he found the juice pouch in and the girl immediately rushes to the desk with her equipment. She scans everything and anything within her reach from beakers, to countless documents piled in manilla envelopes without any regard for maintaining order. It takes a couple of minutes but eventually, Nobody manages to find what she is looking for. She slouches in visible ease and walks back up to Jon, who hasn’t moved an inch during her search.

“You are incredibly lucky!” She says as she takes off her mask to reveal her relieved grin. “It was water but not normal water. This was a different, more magical water.”

“Like the kool-aid?”

Nobody nods as she puts her equipment back into her robes. “Yes, like the kool-aid, but this water is supposedly from the Fountain of Youth which doesn’t hurt you as long as you’re pure of heart. Congratulations Jon; you’re a certified Disney princess complete with a pure heart and soul!”

“Fountain of Youth…” Jon repeats slowly as the words sink into his consciousness. “I CAN’T GO INTO THE FOUNTAIN OF YOUTH! I DON’T WANT TO BE A BABY AGAIN!”

“Well maybe, and hear me out for a sec, just maybe you shouldn’t go putting everything that looks slightly edible INTO YOUR MOUTH!” She blows up smacking Jon upside the head. “You’re so lucky that you didn’t turn into an infant or a toddler!”

“I was hungry and thirsty! I forgot to bring my cereal bars!”

“How is that a valid argument!?”

“It’s not, I’m still hungry!”

“Fine! We’ll go to the cafeteria!” Nobody shouts, grabbing the back of Jonathan’s red belt and hauling him out of the room.

“Shouldn’t we clean up the mess we made?” Jon asks as his heels drag across the floor.

“Let’s just blame the Titans and not bother.”

“That’s not very nice.”

“Niceness is not a priority.” She groans, slapping her forehead.

The cafeteria wasn’t too far from where they were however the distance was much longer than the one he had to take from his classroom to his school cafeteria. It’s a good thing Jonathan met Nobody because there was no way that he would have been able to find this place by himself. Jon was thinking about ways to stealthily sneak in and grab some food but Nobody simply walks right into the crowded dining hall like they belonged there. It’s then that he noticed everybody in the hall being similar ages to them wearing the same uniforms.

“Oh, I guess it’s breakfast time,” Jon states methodically looking down at his uniform. “You sure know a lot.”

“Obviously,” She scoffs, flipping her hair back even though it was already held in place by her headband. “I’ve been undercover for weeks which is how I got all of this information.”

“So you’re a secret spy?” The little boy asks in complete awe as he is led to where all the food was.

“Is there any other kind of spy?”

“I dunno.” Jon shrugs then glances at the array of food before him to see what he could eat. Unluckily, he didn’t know what was in front of him and the stuff he did know are things he doesn’t like. “What am I supposed to eat?”

Nobody raises a brow at him in a scrutinizing manner before rolling her eyes and grabbing two plates. “You’ll drink mystery liquid from a stranger’s drawer but you can’t find something to eat when there’s actual food?”

“Yes,” Jon answers, not understanding the absurdity of it. He points to a large dish that resembles pizza and says, “That looks like pizza bu’ I know it ain’t pizza. All the food here is weird.”

“It’s not weird, it’s just foreign.” The older girl sighs as she takes a slice and puts it on one of her plates. “Calling food you don’t know of weird is rude.”

“Oh, sorry.” Nobody doesn’t pay too much attention to his apology seeing as it wasn’t directed at her personally and gathers food for the both of them, with Jon’s plate having more simple dishes that might suit his appetite more. The boy watches silently, now having to get on his toes thanks to his slightly shorter stature, as she puts what looks like the salad Dami always eats for lunch on his plate. “That’s a lot of greens.”

“Well someone has some growing to do and needs to eat their veggies.” She teases and boops Jon on the nose with her free hand.

“I’m, like, not a baby, right?” He asks self consciously as he sees his acquaintance put a pomegranate on what looks to be his plate. “I still look seven, right?”

That makes Nobody pause her movements and stares at him in a brand new light as her olive eyes widen and she nearly drops the plates she’s holding. “You’re seven? Crap, I thought you were, like, a really dumb nine-year-old this entire time. Turns out you’re just a normally stupid seven-year-old.”

Jon shakes his head and holds onto the end of Nobody’s robe subconsciously. “No, I’m seven. A lot of people think I’m older because I’m so tall and grow like a tree!” He decides to emphasize this fact by lifting his arms in the air so that he may resemble a tree.

“You look your age then.” She replies and turns around with a scowl. “Hey, do you know those guys?”

“What guys?” Jon asks as he follows her line of vision across the multiple tables of the cafeteria before meeting a series of familiar blue eyes. Come to think of it, most people he knew had blue eyes which is weird because he remembers learning that blue eyes were supposed to be uncommon. Those familiar blue eyes of varying degrees are all boring into him with the same intensity. “Oh, I think those are my friends!”

“And is there a reason they all look incredibly pissed off at you?”

“I left their side but I wasn’t too far so I don’t know why they look so mad.” He answers trying to conclude why they all seem equally frustrated. “Let’s go sit with them!”

“Okay.” Nobody agrees politely and walks over to the back where the three other boys were sitting in eerie silence. “Hello! You must be Jon’s friends-”

“God damn it, Jon!” Colin exclaims slamming his hands on the table and shaking their collective plates.

“Hi, guys!” Jon greets completely unperturbed by the outburst and hops onto the wooden bench across from his brother with Nobody sitting next to him calmly.

“Hello, Jon, I’m so very happy to see you made it here in one piece. We expected to see you here eventually seeing as you were hungry earlier,” Tim responds in a relaxed tone with an equally relaxed smile, although his eyes tell Jon a different, more disappointing story. “Who is your friend?”

Jon looks at Nobody who simply smiles at him and holds out her hand for the older male to shake. “Hello, my name is Felicity! Jon and I met in the hall right before the early morning training for new recruits!”

Okay so clearly they weren’t going to be telling the truth because the little boy is pretty sure none of that happened unless he hit his head. Also, Felicity? Jon goes to protest the lie but he can feel Nobody pinch the outside of his thigh as a warning.

“Hello Felicity, I’m Jason. My friend here,” He gestures to Conner who is looking puzzled by Jon’s appearance. “Is Lionel and the other little boy is James. It’s very nice to meet you.” He finishes by shaking Nobody’s hand and the two lock eyes for what feels like forever before both of their expressions change into a sober grimace. “Now that we have introductions out of the way, how about we finish our meals quickly and head out before the call us in for our training session with young Master Mara?”

“Oh, that’s weird.” Nobody, or is it Felicity, says as she lets go of Tim’s hand first and takes a bite out of the not-pizza. “Isn’t it young Master Damian’s job to instruct the older students today? Master Mara is under review with her current batch of young trainees meaning that Master Damian must take over for her today.”

Tim’s grin grows wider and he playfully knocks the top of his noggin with a light laugh. “But of course, silly me! Please forgive me, we’re new here so we don’t know how everything works yet.”

“Don’t beat yourself up over it. It took me a while to accumulate the League’s workings.” She laughs as well and when Jon tries to ask what the heck they’re talking about she shoves a large ring-shaped bread into his mouth. “Jon, you better eat up! We have a long day ahead of us and that ka’ak isn’t going to finish itself.”

“Yes Jon, eat up. We don’t want you getting delirious from low blood sugar and losing your way again.” The older teen orders eagerly and grabs Jonathan’s pomegranate to begin deseeding it with a fruit knife from the table.

“Wow, those are some excellent knife skills!” The girl compliments but Jon doesn’t think she’s being sincere.

“Why thank you, but it’s nothing. I can probably find pomegranates better than I can deseed them.”

“I understand, I’m the same.” She nods and Tim nods back in some kind of weird mutual understanding.

Colin, who is sitting next to Conner, whispers to Jon, “What is going on?”

“I don’t know,” Jon replies, equally confused, yet continues eating as if nothing was wrong.

“So Jon, you sure look refreshed.” Tim points out as he takes a bite of his weird rice salad. “You didn’t drink the green kool-aid did you? You know I told you you shouldn’t drink anything sugary.”

“Oh, that?” Felicity pipes up before Jon could get a word in while she scarfs down her meal at an impressive rate. “No, he just happened to stumble across some imported spring water. It’s very special and said to have rejuvenating qualities.”

“That sounds delightful!” The teen cheers and Jonathan has never felt more terror from a single word in his life; especially a word like delightful. “Where was it imported from? The Netherlands? The Himalayas? Fiji?”

“I’m personally unfamiliar with the area but the labels on the bottle say it’s from a quaint little Valley in Nanda Parbat.”

Timothy’s positive facade shatters for only a fraction of a second into an expression of utter dread before reverting to its previous state. “Nanda Parbat… Well, it’s good to know that our dear friend Jon is still the same, naive,  _ stupid  _ boy we all know and love.” Okay, ow, Jon guesses he deserves that insult but it was still mean. Tim hands Jon the opened fruit just as he was finishing his bread and he begins to clean up everyone’s plates even though none of them were empty. “Would you look at the time? We better get going if we want to stretch out legs before training begins, right guys?”

“But I’m still hungry,” Jon whines with seeds all over his face and is immediately shut down by a violent glare from the young vigilante. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay Jon. It makes sense that you’re hungry seeing as you’re a growing child after all. I’ll grab another pomegranate before we head out.” He smiles and goes to put the plates away while the rest of them were expected to follow. True to his word, Tim does grab two more pomegranates from the table before walking out the front door and the group follows him down a long path before he stops to look at Conner.

Conner stiffens under the serious stare and doesn’t know what to do for a few seconds until he regains his footing and cups his pierced ear. “Uh- left is clear.”

Jon looks to the right to see why that path wasn’t clear, but Colin grabs his arm in a tight hold and pulls him the other direction. “So you won’t get any ideas.” He growls under his breath.

Wow everyone is really mad at him.

The group makes it to a small courtyard surrounded by beautiful flowers when they finally stop after about half an hour of wandering around. Tim looks to Conner again and is given two thumbs up. He lets out a long exhale and tightens the loops of his belt methodically before turning to Jon and Colin with a curt nod. The redhead immediately takes the hint and takes the younger boy by the collar of his robe, shaking him wildly with his feet off the ground. 

“YOU HAD ONE FUCKING JOB, JON, AND YOU COULDN’T EVEN DO THAT!” He shouts angrily with tears pricking the corners of his eyes. “You idiot, just cause you’re indestructible doesn’t mean they can’t do other shit to you if you get captured! There are worse fates than death!”

“But we knew where you were so it’s not like I was lost or anything!” Jon defends with his hands up trying to calm his friend down. “Besides, even if I did get lost Con-” 

“Names.” Tim coughs.

“Kon-El could just find me with his hearing!”

“Yo, I dunno how your hearing works but mine definitely can’t do what I think you think it can.” Conner elaborates as he watches his little brother being shaken down. “Like, I can hear where stuff is coming from but I hear everything. I can’t focus my ears on one single thing like you can. I mean I guess I could but I don’t know how. Also, does Jon look different to you? I’m pretty sure those clothes fit him better the last time he saw him.”

“That’s because Jon drank from the Fountain of Youth.” Tim sighs rubbing his eyes tiredly. “Honestly that is the best thing that could have happened while he was gone. It’s just a permanent change to his entire biology with unknown repercussions so we’re all fine.”

“How the heck did that happen!” Colin yells.

“It was in a juice pouch!” Jon explains, pulling the empty bag he took out from his robe.

“That’s not a juice pouch; it’s an IV bag!”

“I know that now!”

Tim swipes the bag from his hands and examines it for a moment before putting it into his own training robe. “Still not the worst thing that could have happened. It’s okay, I planned for this.”

“You planned for my baby brother to drink magical eternal youth water?” The taller teen question with complete confusion.

“No, but I did have a plan in case he drank Lazerus pit water. It’s the same thing but with fewer steps.” He elaborates as he pulls out an unknown device from the other side of his uniform. “Also, eternal youth is different from the de-aging, which is what the Fountain of Youth does. Okay Jon, point to Damian.”

Instantly Jon is put down and he points to where he can hear Damian’s heartbeat emanating from.

“Good, now;” Tim plucks a leaf from one of the many foliages around them and hands it to Jon. “Use your heat vision.”

Jon stares at the leaf intensely for a couple of moments and the leaf doesn’t appear to have had any effects on it. Tim pinches the tops of it with his fingers and nods in approval. “Good, your powers are all intact so we at least don’t have to worry about that.” He looks to Nobody who has been patiently standing back and watching the scene unfold. “So, what are you doing here? I doubt Nobody is dumb enough to piss of the League.”

The girl looks taken aback by Timothy’s brashness, yet not surprised by his words. She shakes off any lingering hesitation she might have had and replies, “Don’t worry, I’m not here to cause too much trouble. I have the same goal as you: to bring Damian Al-Ghul back to Gotham.” Royal blue eyes glare at the child and the teen reaches into his shirt to grab something with which he holds her hands up in surrender, “Woah, hold on, I’m not lying! I’m telling you the truth! I’m not here to take him to some secret location or some weird lair. I just want to bring him back to his home.”

The older male continues to stare a hole in her, but relents and doesn’t pull anything out. “And what does Nobody have to gain from that?”

Nobody grins politely and tilts her head in a way to convey complete innocence. “Dad invested a lot of money into Damian and he doesn’t want his purchase to go to waste.”

“Fair.” Tim shrugs crossing his arms. “I guess this means we’re in an alliance for the time being?”

“Exactly!” She nods turning to the group. “Let’s all work together to bring Damian back home!”

Jon has no idea what’s going on but that’s never stopped him from doing anything before, so it’s definitely not going to stop him now. “We were already doing that!”

Colin sighs from next to him and shakes his head but is resigned to the fate laid out in front of him. “How does this keep happening to you?”

“How does what keep happening to me?”

“You know what, never mind. Let’s just keep going before someone gets captured-”

It was at that moment Conner held his hands up to signal for everyone to be quiet. The larger teenager moves towards a different entrance of the courtyard and notices a herd of kids in uniforms running down the hall. Without permission, he stops one of the older boys and asks, “عن إذنكِ إلى أين يذهب الجميع؟” in perfect Arabic.

“القبض على المتطفلين!” The boy shouts excitedly before ripping himself out of Conner’s grip and moving back into the crowd.

“شكراً لكِ اخبارنا بذلك.” The teen replies as he runs back to his team who were watching him with open mouths. “Yo, they found some trespassers and everyone is probably going there to see them be made examples of.”

“You knew Arabic this entire time?” Tim asks with his mouth agape along with the other boys.

Conner tilts his head and scratches his undercut with a dumbfounded expression. “Of course I do. What you think Lex Luthor, one of the smartest men in the world, would leave his kids without an education?”

“How come you didn’t mention that before; What else do you know!?” Colin screams, jumping up to hit the taller boy in the shoulder.

The half-Kryptonian teen holds his head in thought as he tries to remember everything he’s learned. “No one asked me. It’s not much but Dad did teach me about business management, aerospace & chemical engineering, simple world history, basic molecular biology, American sign language, Mexican Spanish, Russian, Mandarin, Brazillian Portuguese, Arabic, Korean, Japanese, and… Ah! And inhuman interrogation tactics!”

“You know all that yet you didn’t know ice cream trucks were real!” Jon screams at his brother, throwing his hands up in the air at the absurdity of it all.

“Hey, it’s not that big of a deal.” He brushes off not understanding when everyone is so impressed. “Plus it’s not like I even took the time to learn it myself. Dad just injected my brain with all that useless crap when I was still in my containment chamber.”

“Containment chamber?” The little boy questions walking up to the other exit so that he can see the group of kids. “Did it look like a fancy drinking glass with tubes sticking out of it?”

Conner perks up at the description answers, “Yeah, how did you know?”

“Because Nobody or Felicity or whatever her name is and I were in the lab and they had a bunch of them!” He explains turning back to the group. “They all looked the same and had the green water that destroys Dami’s mind in it.”

Tim’s eyes widen at the information then he shoots across the clearing to Jon and holds him roughly by the shoulders. “Jon, what do you mean?”

“The kool-aid! They keep giving Dami the kool-aid and they want to steal his body!” The little boy shouts fearfully due to being reminded of the danger his best friend is in.

Nobody groans and slaps her forehead at his words while explaining the situation to them. “I was explaining the effects of the Lazarus water to him and he kinda blanked out for a second before screaming about some pedo who wants to snatch Damian Al-Ghul’s body.”

“I don’t know what that is but I think the people running his place wants to labdo- lobedo… lebdomee-”

“Lobotomize.” The girl corrects plainly.

“Yeah! Some old man wants to use his body and get rid of his mind!” Jon concludes with a stern nod.

“Does anyone know what he’s saying?” Nobody asks to which most of the group shrugs in response.

“He’s awful at explaining himself,” Colin explains nonchalantly. “But he doesn’t make stuff up so we have to take what he says at face value. If I had to guess Jon is telling us that they’re using this green kool-aid to mindwipe Damian and put another brain inside. Like swapping bodies but worse.”

“Exactly, Colin-

“Names.” Tim drones aloud.

“-understands me!”

“I wish I didn’t.”

“Jon focus,” The oldest teen orders as he grabs Jonathan’s chin so that he can look him in the eye. “Do you think that’s what is happening?”

Jon nods his head so hard he accidentally headbutts the other boy. “Yes! I saw it in a vision… or heard it. I didn’t actually see anything-” 

“That is good enough for me!” Tim proclaims as he stands up and rubs his bruising forehead. “Okay everyone we’re going to get a little more complicated with our plan first-”

“Titans سوف يقتلون!” One of the children down the hall cries out in excitement, stopping the beginning of Robin’s explanation before it could even take off.

“Okay, change in plans  _ again _ .” The teen proclaims with the same amount of dedication as before. “First we’re going to rescue the Titans who somehow got captured and are about to be killed, then we’re going to save Damian from getting body-snatched. Any questions?”

Immediately everyone raises their hands and the four of them raise their voice to ask their concerns.

“When did the Titans get here? How did they get captured?”

“Did the Flash pull a Jesus?”

“How are we going to do that?”

“In order; I don’t know or don’t care, I don’t know what that’s supposed to mean Jon, and I’ll think of one on the way.” Tim lists off as he picks Jon up and quickly ties their belts together. “This is so you won’t run off again.”

“But I didn’t run off that far!” He protests and is rightfully ignored.

The group of five blend in with the recruits and with the flow of traffic through several complex hallways until they land upon an expansive bridge outside leading to a distinct skull-shaped landmark. Jonathan already knew that the structure was massive from the painting in Dami’s room and the view he had from the plane, but the real thing didn’t hold a candle to walking towards it. He can hear Damian’s heartbeat inside the lava-spewing rock and taps on his right ear while pointing at it to tell Tim about it without speaking.

He sees Tim nod in understanding, or at least he hopes it is, while looking ahead with a grave expression. He looks to Nobody, who was walking next to an extremely nervous Colin, and begins signing to her in what appears to be what Jon believes is sign language. The little girl watches his hand motions then responds using her own hands. The two communicate like this during the commute inside and Jonathan couldn’t help but feel like he was entering Splash Mountain at Disney World; He’s personally never been there but the internet told him it feels like this.

Tim begins to sign at Conner with completely different hand gestures and the younger teenager lights up with utter euphoria at what is being signaled to him. Whatever the two were talking about it must have been interesting. Without warning, Conner takes Nobody and Colin into his arms then sprints forward through the river of kids. To an outsider, it must’ve appeared that they were super excited to see the Titans get executed because some of the other children around them followed his lead until it seemed like everyone was rushing to the destination.

“Why aren’t we moving faster?” Jonathan asks pointing to where his Brother and friends ran far ahead of them.

“Don’t worry, everything is being set into motion.” He beams, holding Jonathan closer to his chest. “Remember how much fun you had with Damian at the picnic?”

The boy nods and Tim brushes his bangs away from his face. “Ye! I got to help win and I’m still mad at Jason for taking the trophy! I should have it!”

“Yes, yes you should.” The teen chuckles and taps the pouting child fondly on the nose with his index finger. “Guess what we’re going to do?”

Jon concentrates on the question then lights up with his epiphany. “Are we going to be a distraction?”

“You got it!” He cheers and softly claps his fingers together.

“But what are we going to do?”

The only answer Jon is given was a wickedly wide smile as the darkness cavern consumes them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tim is trying really hard but his moral compass is currently the Twister Spinner. Next chapter is the beginning of the chaos and for those that didn't notice, and I don't blame you cause that's my fault writing's if ya didn't, Maya's Dad was the one who brought Damian for 4 billion during the last arc.
> 
> Also, side note, Jonathan sure likes eating weird things. 🙃
> 
> Anyways the plot thickens and after this arc, if I don't change anything major in my notes, is actually the second to last one. That doesn't mean the story is almost done but I was reading through my google docs and notice there are only two more left after this and they are long. There was no point in sharing that with ya cause it's gonna be another +200k worth of words but it was just a fun fact. Don't worry for those of you who don't want this to be over soon.
> 
> I'm really excited about next chapter and as always I love hearing your thoughts on this one! Thanks for reading! 💖


	32. The Price of Seeing the Light

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jonathan finally gets reunited with Damian but the pleasant reunion doesn't last for long.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Y'all I'm so happy that I got this done so quickly! I'm really excited to see how this goes over because the first few hours after posting a new chapter and wondering if people like it or not are the most stressful moments of my day. Sorry for any grammar errors! Thank you for reading and I hope y'all remember to read the tags.
> 
> ENJOY!

Jonathan Samuel Kent would like to take this time and make it clear to anyone who will ever ask him if he knows what he’s doing if he does. The short answer is a big fat NO in all capital letters. The long answer to that question is; bold of people to assume he has any idea what’s going on at any time. Jon is a person of goals and not one for the finer details. All he knows is that he wants to save Dami from the body snatcher who is probably his grandfather and hopefully brings him home willingly. If the son of Batman refuses to come home then… Well, Jon doesn’t know because he didn’t think that far. 

He especially didn’t think far enough ahead to anticipate his quest to save Dami leading him to rescue the Titans, but it makes the half-Kryptonian feel like a superhero. He almost feels as though the objective of his mission wasn’t entirely selfish even though he knows it is. There is just something about rescuing heroes that are supposed to know better because they’re older what for when they get saved by children half their age.

Currently, Jon is piggybacking against Tim’s back as he travels through the rafters of the stone stadium surrounded by lava below them. With his stomach pressed against the beam, the young vigilante crawls along the narrow platform sweating bullets due to the heat emanating from underneath. Jon also feels mildly warm but he’s not sweating as much as Tim. It’s a bit difficult to wrap his arms around the teen’s neck to the amount of perspiration which begs the question; Why would anyone build a stadium complete with theater seating in a place envelope by molten rocks?

“It’s called theatrics Superboy,” Robin grunts quietly as he continues his journey. “If you want to be a superhero or villain you have to be overly dramatic. It’s what separates the A-listers from the C-listers.”

“What about their strengths?” Jon questions looking down at the colosseum style seating.

“Sure, that might have a part in it, but without a clear aesthetic you might as well be dead to the hero community.” He says before pulling himself forward one more time before stopping right above the center of the stone arena in the center of the lava.

He sits up with the second-grader still clinging to his back and feet digging into the older boy’s rib cage then pulls out a pair of binoculars from the inside of his robe. Jon pouts at the sight and asks, “Where does everyone keep storing all their stuff? I don’t see any pockets in this bathrobe so where is all that stuff coming from?”

“Utility belt.”

“Dami doesn’t have a utility belt but he’s able to carry a sword everywhere,” Jon complains, pouting harder. “Where does he keep all his stuff?”

Tim shrugs as he puts the lenses to his eyes and a red earpiece over his lobe. “I don’t know, maybe he keeps it up his butt.”

“That’s what I said and he told me I was stupid.”

“I guess we’ll never know then.” The teen says in a resigned manner. “Now hush, the show's about to begin.”

Jon looks down at what appears to be moving dots due to the extensive height they’re at with a frown. “Aren’t we supposed to be distracting them while everyone else does something?”

Tim nods as he puts on his black Dinamo mask. “We will but we have to wait for the signal. Everything must be timed perfectly. Remember what I said about theatrics.”

“Okay, but what do we do once we get down there? I don’t know what to do or say once we get down there.” 

“Don’t worry about that Superboy. The best distractions are those that are improvised and come from the heart. Do whatever feels right for you and if you still can’t think of anything then follow my lead, got it?” He asks then feels Jon nod his head against his left shoulder blade. “Good, now try and listen to what’s going on down there with your super hearing.”

Jonathan does his best to focus his hearing on where everyone was located but it was difficult to accomplish without accidentally honing in on a conversation going on in the audience. Every time he thinks he has it figured out he stops hearing Damian’s heartbeat which scares him enough to the point his hearing reverts to its normal states. “I’m trying but I can’t.” He laments, ashamed by his minuscule skill level.

Tim comforts the boy by patting him on the head and removing one of his earpieces and placing it on Jon’s significantly smaller ear. “That’s okay, you’ll be able to with more practice. Do you want to share the binoculars?”

“Yes please.” Jon replies and Tim moves the device so that each of them can look through one lens.

On the platform below the seven-year-old is able to witness the events unfold clearly, or at least as clear as he can. He doesn’t have the whole winking thing down yet so that means he can only half see everything which is still enough to know that whatever is supposed to be going on is starting. Spouting from the circular rock formation is a narrow stone bridge that leads to another platform that is elevated high above the even the tallest section of the arena seating. Placed on the narrow summit resides a golden throne encrusted with blood-red gemstones where an elderly man adorned in brilliant emerald robes sits regally with a finely crafted sword resting upon his lap. Even though Jonathan’s vision is blurry, he can still see the familiar green eyes that were so beautiful on Damian, but petrifying on this stranger.

Next to him is a little girl with dark brown hair and a red bandana over her right eye also with green eyes. She was dressed in a nicer version of the training uniform everyone was wearing if the shine of her gi was anything to go by. Over the tawny skin of her face, there peaks out a bright pink scar from under her face covering which is scrunched to be downright infuriated. On the other side of him stands another woman, this one a full-grown adult with lustrous long coffee-colored hair in an emerald two-piece dress that reaches her ankles and a jewel-encrusted sword.

Finally for the first time in weeks that felt like an eternity Jonathan laid his eyes upon Damian Wayne. No more did the older boy have the wounds on his face from their previous ordeal in September nor did he lean on his right leg. All signs that he’s ever been injured have vanished from his person only leaving behind flawlessly smooth skin. Damian wore a stunning emerald robe similar to the one he had on when they first met and was it just Jon for did Damian’s pretty eyes look more radiant than usual-

“Jon, I’m trying to observe the Titans and that’s hard to do when you’re busy gawking at the Hellspawn,” Tim complains as he pushes Jon head to the left.

“But Dami is right there!” Jon whines as he leans forward to continue looking at his best friend and feels his arm brush up against something on the back of Timothy’s neck. His small hand tangles itself in the teen’s black hair and awkwardly pushes it up much to the young vigilante’s confusion. He notices a familiar scar on the back of Tim’s neck that he once saw on Dami. “You two really are brothers.”

“Huh?” Tim blurts out dumbly as he tries to re-adjust his crooked head against the surprisingly strong seven-year-old’s grip.

“Dami has a scar here,” He poke the still fresh scab on Tim’s neck. “Cause he ripped out a thingy.”

Tim grabs Jon’s wrist and wraps the arm around the front of his throat for a more secure hold. “Yeah, well that’s B’s fault for putting it somewhere easily accessible.”

The two of them watch below without further interruptions to see the elderly man with exaggerated sideburns standing up from his throne and makes his way down the stairs and gestures for Damian to follow him. The child obediently complies and pulls on a chain attached to something, or someone, behind the chair. Nightwing dressed in what resembles dirty rags sewn together to look like clothing stumbles out onto his bare feet against the scolding rock. His face was heavily bruised, and his bare arms are scarred as they are forced to bear the weight of the large iron chain on his wrists. 

They make it to the center of the platform where a group of young adults lay on the ground tied up with chains or machines, varying from person to person, and one person, the Flash, completely unconscious on the ground. A woman with orange skin and fiery red hair who Jon knows is Starfire because he remembers her catching Dami and him mid-air at the picnic. She looks to her chained comrades then to Dick with a menacing glare.

“What do you want with Nightwing Ra’s!”

The old man gazes at her with a devilish smile then takes a large step back and holds one arm out to signal to him, and the boy walks in front of the patriarch with a stoic and arrogant expression as he sneers down at the group. “Pathetic. Richard, are these the comrades you speak so highly of?”

The man groans at his little brother and throws his head back. “Dami, can you not-”

“I indeed will.” Damian cuts off, still not taking his eyes off the adults. “They tried to take you away from me therefore they need to be punished.”

“Nightwing, I thought you said you two didn’t get along.” A voice Jon recognizes as Beast Boy comments from inside a tiny metal box with seemingly no entrances or exits.

“Silence!” The ten-year-old shouts kicking the box to the edge of the platform where it nearly tips over into the lava. “I didn’t give you permission to speak, peasant.”

The elderly man strokes the back of Damian’s hair in what would appear to be a loving action yet was giving off the feeling of a threat. “The trauma of living the flawed life you so-called heroes are so foolish to protect has scarred my grandson to the point he began seeing things, things that are not there. He needs an attendant to help him recover alongside other treatments, and the Detective’s protegee willingly volunteered for the position. Your unfounded worries have not only compromised the security of my family’s ancestral home, but your rambunctious pack is also a group of lowly thieves.”

“Thieves?” A girl in black spandex that resembles the night sky questions looking to her teammates who all shrug. “We didn’t steal anything Ra’s!”

“At least not yet!”

“Beast Boy!” They all shout, looking at the rapidly heating up box.

“Liars! You all took something that would have not only helped my heir but the longevity of the Al-Ghul bloodline!” Ra’s snaps loud enough for the light chattering in the audience to subdue into fearful silence. “My people!” He yells to the colosseum style seating. “These are the enemies who have made it their mission to oppose the furtherment of humanity! They strive to protect the heathens that are killing the world in some backward sense of justice! They have stolen from one of the most important relics acquired by the League that would have solidified out greatness to the world! They have stolen the sacred waters from the Fountain of Youth!”

Jon’s fair complexion almost turns white from the declaration and he sees Tim side-eying him judgmentally. “I-I didn’t know! They shouldn’t keep it in an unlocked drawer!” Jon defends but that doesn’t erase the look the older boy is giving him.

“True, but that doesn’t mean you should have drunk it.” Tim shrugs looking back through the lenses. “If my hypothesis is correct I suspect that they didn’t have much because either there wasn’t enough water to begin with. They were probably in the process of trying to replicate it and modify it so anyone could benefit from the waters, not just the pure of heart.”

“Wow… What does it mean to be pure of heart? Nobody said I’m a Disney Princess now.”

He shrugs again. “Pure of heart is kind of weird and I wouldn’t know what the requirements would be. If you meet Shazam you should ask him; That’s right up his alley.”

“This morning we shall make examples of those who dare tread on our land!” Ra’s roars as the audience erupted in applause of equal enthusiasm. For an old man, he can sure project his voice; Jon’s impressed.

A light flickers from both of the boy’s left, stinging them in the eyes. Jonathan flinches at the sigh however Tim merely smirks and reaches into his robe to hand Jon his communicator. “Pick a song.”

Jon holds the device in his small hands with furrowed brows as he looks at the touch screen device asking, “What?”

“Just a fun entrance song to throw everyone off their balance. It doesn’t matter what it is so I thought you might want to pick it.” Tim explains readjusting his posture and the child on his back until his feet are dangling off the rafter. “Don’t think too hard about it cause there are no wrong answers. Just pick any song you like, I downloaded almost every song in the world.”

The seven-year-old contemplates his option because he doesn’t want to pick something stupid when they drop down to save everyone. “Mmmm…”

A hand removes the earpiece from the boy’s face and puts it back into the toddler teen’s clothes. “Not to pressure you but you got ten seconds.”

Oh no, that just makes everything worse and Jon doesn’t know what to do so on a whim he types in the last song he remembers listening to at school and presses play before handing the hero back his phone. The sound doesn’t erupt from the speakers of the phone like Jon thought it would but instead through the entire stadium which made Jon’s song choice a million times worse. A synth noise reminiscing the Jaws theme pounds through the structure and Tim’s jaw drops in response.

_Baby shark, doo, doo, doo, doo, doo, doo_

_Baby shark, doo, doo, doo, doo, doo, doo_

_Baby shark, doo, doo, doo, doo, doo, doo_

_Baby shark!_

Robin drags a tired hand down his face as the people below them search around them in utter bafflement. “Wh… You know what, this is my fault. I keep forgetting you’re only seven.”

_Mommy shark, doo, doo, doo, doo, doo, doo_

_Mommy shark, doo, doo, doo, doo, doo, doo_

_Mommy shark, doo, doo, doo, doo, doo, doo_

_Mommy shark!_

“Can I change it?” Jon asks meekly with a flushed face because even he’s embarrassed by the turn of events.

“It’s fine, I can work with this. Just give me a second to regain my composure.” He tells Jon while he holds his face shamefully in his hands. “You’ve proved me wrong, there is a wrong answer, and introducing the entirety of the League of Assassins to Baby Shark is it.”

_Daddy shark, doo, doo, doo, doo, doo, doo_

_Daddy shark, doo, doo, doo, doo, doo, doo_

_Daddy shark, doo, doo, doo, doo, doo, doo_

_Daddy shark!_

“WHERE IS THAT HORRID MUSIC COMING FROM!?” Talia Al-Ghul shouts as all her attendants who wouldn’t dare give her an answer since none of them knew either. 

_Grandma shark, doo, doo, doo, doo, doo, doo_

_Grandma shark, doo, doo, doo, doo, doo, doo_

_Grandma shark, doo, doo-!_

Tim finally decides to end his humiliation by stopping the song and hopping down from the rafters onto the stone platform below. Jon barely has enough of a warning to tighten his grip as the fall from the great distance and he almost falls off of the teen’s back as the force of the impact jolts the both of them to their core. The sidekick is still pinching the bridge of his nose in a manner reminiscent of Mr, Wayne when he’s exasperated by events when Jon meets eyes with Damian, who they landed in front of.

“Dami!” Jon exclaims joyously and immediately tries to untangle himself from Tim’s waist to no avail due to being tied at the waist. “Hold up, I almost got it.” He does not in fact ‘got it’ as any attempt he makes to unfurl himself from the fifteen-year-old only causes the knot used to keep him still to tighten.

“You seem to be losing your touch, Robin.” Ra’s announces after observing the scene.

“Wait, I’m still recovering from my entrance.” He grunts before shaking his head and looking up at the Demon’s head with renewed confidence. “Hello, Ra’s.”

“This is certainly a surprise.” Ra’s says playfully and unsheathes his blade. “I see you’ve developed your mentor’s habit of taking small children into your care. He even fits the usually modus operandi.”

“Dami!” Jon shouts ignoring the two older men talking. The older boy isn’t even looking at Jonathan and continues looking ahead to where the Titans gawk at the sight of Tim and Jonathan tied together. It’s like Dami didn’t even notice his friend was there or excited. Jonathan had quite enough of Damian ignoring him. He stares super hard at the knot stopping him from running to his best friend to the point it begins to smoke. It doesn’t catch on fire but the section of Tim’s red belt does burn off allowing Jonathan to run around the platform freely.

He lands face first onto the hot rock before getting right up in Damian’s stupid mug. “Dami! Dami aren’t you going to say something!?”

The grip on the handle of Damian’s scimitar tightens until his knuckles turn white but he still acknowledges neither Jonathan nor Timothy’s presence. The smaller child jumps up to look his friend in the eyes, but nothing he does gets the other to pay attention to him. Jon grasps his hand and feels the palm tense up underneath him, but the older boy’s body does nothing more to reassure Jon that he didn’t suddenly develop invisibility.

“Richard.” He hears Damian grit through his teeth quietly. “Richard, it’s happening again.”

“Dami, what’s happening? What’s wrong?” Jon interrogates irate, but also incredibly worried.

In response to his little brother’s distress, the man wraps his chained arms around the child from behind and holds his little brother closer to his person. “Dami, Dami you’re fine. Can you feel me?”

Damian nods, making sure to face forward and not break eye contact with the enemies on the ground. “Yes.”

“I’m real, right?” He asks gently in a lovingly quiet voice.

“Yes.”

“You can’t feel things that aren’t real, right?”

“Yes.”

“Did you feel Superboy?” Dick questions lifting his eyes to meet the younger boy’s complexion.

Damian swallows a nonexistent lump in his throat and shakily lets out a mousey, “...Yes.”

The oldest son of Batman nods and sighs disappointedly. “That means Superboy is real. He’s right here. He shouldn’t be here at all but here he is.”

Emerald eyes blink several times to make sure the image shown to him is not a trick of the eyes or a phantom of his mind. He lifts a tentative hand to run it through fluffy midnight hair, but Jon intercepts it and takes it into both his own hands where he caresses it against his face. “Damian, I’m real.”

Slowly Jonathan pulls him away from his sibling’s hold and Damian’s empty expression morphs into absolute dread. “Oh no.”

“Yep! I’m really here, Dami and I think you know me well enough to know what that means.” Jon smiles innocently and takes the chain out of the heir’s free hand.

“Robin, what the heck are you doing here with Jon!?” Starfire shouts furiously looking at the boys.

Tim waves her off, righteously pissing all of the Titans off, and looking at Ra’s with an expression that says a thousand words; all words Jonathan doesn’t know. “So, I don’t want to waste our time Ra’s, I assume a man of your stature and intellect can conclude why I would come here in such a bombastic demeanor unbefitting of either of us.”

“I believe I can, though I must admit each of our meetings leaves me yearning more of that wonderful mind of yours. What I wouldn’t give to dissect it and find out what’s going on in there.” He compliments in a way that gives Jon bad shivers while stroking his beard methodically.

Unaffected by his tone Tim mimics the cultist’s posture and demeanor before breaking out in a truly sinful grin that stretches the ends of his lips. He reaches into his robe and pulls out the empty IV bag Jonathan gave him early in the hour and drops it at the man’s feet. “By the way, I’m _sooo_ sorry about your little plan. Let’s face it, the stuff would have killed you faster than the Lazarus Pit.”

“Oh? And you think anyone in your clan is worthy of using it?” The elderly man inquires cupping the side of the teenager’s face to get a better look into those calculating blue eyes.

Dick Grayson makes an incredulous noise at the action but is ignored as his little brother answers. “No, I don’t. Maybe Batman but he’s more of a loophole than an example.”

“So you wasted it?” He asks smoothly but closes his fist in the side of Robin’s hair, pulling on it painfully.

“I wouldn’t say it went to waste,” Tim states flippantly. “It went to a worthy cause. Superboy, are you still thirsty?”

Jon blinks, surprised that he’s being asked something because he wasn’t following the conversation well at all. “Uh… Not really. I am still hungry; does that count?”

“See? What a more worthy cause than making sure the children are taken care of?” He replies cheekily.

“ROBIN, DID YOU FEED SUPERMAN’S SON MAGIC WATER!?”

“Dude what the fuck!?”

“WHY!”

“Guys, I don’t know what’s happening and it’s getting really hot in this box!”

Ra’s Al-Ghul himself did not shout or ridicule Tim unlike the rest of his peers and simply began to laugh. It starts slowly from the belly before turning into a hysterical fit causing him to hunch over the sword he was using as a cane. “Hahahahahahahahahahahahaha! The detective’s young proteges are getting more and more entertaining every iteration. I do believe you are my favorite one yet, Robin.”

“How flattering, but flattery will only get you so far.” Tim laments, almost articulating disappointment by his statement. “So, trial by combat is it not?”

The Demon’s Head pleasantly nods in agreement. “When the Detective initiates Trial by combat he allows me to pick the champion meant to fight, does he not?”

“Not unless he volunteers himself and believe me, Ra’s, I am more than willing to do anything to win.”

“You’re almost as entertaining as your mentor.” The elderly man muses but takes a step back. “But you are not the champion I am choosing to fight.”

“And I’m not volunteering.” He quips earning a dark chuckle from the leader of the assassins.

“Keep up this line of thinking young one and you might one day earn the respected title of Detective in my eyes.” The man snaps his fingers and the Titans are instantly lifted into the air over the lava by what at first looks like magic, but upon closer inspection in a magnetic field. With a flourish of his emerald cape, Ra’s turns to his audience who have been left to contemplate the inner-workings of what was going on with their leader in the arena and he raises his arms high to regain their attention. “My subjects! It appears we have a change in plans! Watch as the heir to the throne fights for our honor against the false heroes!”

Jonathan gets this horrible sinking feeling in his tummy as he looks between a stunned Dami and Dick to a smug Robin. “Robin, you’re not going to make me fight Dami, are you?” The boy doesn’t want a repeat of his last serious match with his friend even if he was mind-controlled. Jon might be alive but he still got hurt and doesn’t want to go through that again.

“No, that would be a waste,” Tim tells him confidently. “Ra’s is indeed sadistic enough to do it, to make you fight Damian with a kryptonite blade, but there would be no spectacle and why waste an audience? So they can watch you try to make nice with Damian while he hacks away at your body? It’s all about theatrics because-”

“That’s what separates the A-listers from the C-listers.” Jon finishes with an awestruck expression.

“Okay Robin, I know you said you said you were going to help Jon with his powers or something but what the Hell are you trying to instill in a seven-year-old?” Dick scolds walking up to his older little brother and stumbles back when he notices the empty smile on his face. “Timmy-”

“Names.”

“Robin, what’s wrong? What’s going on with you lately?” The bruised man desperately asks as he grabs the teenager’s shoulders and almost has to stop himself from screaming at the touch. “When did you get so thin? Look, I know I’ve been busy looking after Damian lately, but something is wrong with you and you need to tell me. Robin, I’m worried about you. Have I been neglecting you? You never acted like this before-”

“Yes, I have!”

“No, you haven’t!” Dick fights back vehemently. “You never used to obsessively drink caffeine or pull constant all-nighters or disappear without telling anyone and I know for a fact that you wouldn’t have even thought about kidnapping a child. Tim, please, tell me what’s going on with you.”

“Mr. Dick- I mean Dick, I mean, Nightwing.” Jon interrupts letting go of Damian’s petrified hands and trotting up to the brothers. “The scary body snatcher is pointing at you.”

“The who?” Dick blurts out before discerning the boy is talking about Ra’s Al-Ghul. “Uh… Why is he pointing at me?”

His answer comes in the form of a retractable bo-staff to the gut. “I see Ra’s has decided on his champion.” Tim grins as he positions for another attack.

“Now, now Robin, have you forgotten patience?” Ra’s chides with a feral smile. “You’ll have your battle and the winner may take the intruders home to do what they wish with them. Grandson.”

Damian, who has been in stunned silence the entire time, snaps out of his stupor and acknowledges his Grandfather. “Yes, Grandfather?”

“Take the boy up with you so that he may watch the show.” He orders as an assassin walks down the steps with escrima sticks in hand.

“Of course Grandfather,” Damian replies with a curt bow and takes Jon by the hand to lead him up the stairs.

Dick is handed the weapons and stares at Ra’s incredulously. “I’m not going to fight my little brother!”

“Then this shall be a short death match.”

“Wha- Robin! You’re not serious, are you? B has never killed anyone in one of these!”

“Good thing I’m not Batman then.” Tim grins as he twirls his armament around him gracefully. “I do what needs to be done and what I think needs to be done is this.”

“TIM!”

Jon looks back at the brothers as they begin to fight on the stone platform and before his young eyes could witness the weapons clash he notices a subtle change on Tim’s lips. It was brief and if Jon wasn’t who he was he would have missed it. His mouth barely moved from the manic grin but Jon has a feeling and Jonathan’s gut feelings are usually right.

Robin is telling Jon to run.

Jon should have seen this earlier, right now on these stairs is the first time he’s alone with Damian. They’re holding hands and not being held back by anyone but themselves meaning if he wanted to make a move then now would be the time. It was now or never and Jonathan always hated the word never.

With a burst of energy, the little boy begins to run faster than his friend until he’s the one in charge and instead of stopping at the top of the summit Jon just kept running. He moved his little legs like there was no tomorrow, for all Jonathan knows there might not be a tomorrow if he hesitates now. By the time anyone apprehended what he was doing it was too late to stop him because no one would be able to stop a child with superstrength.

And how do they know he has super strength? Because the tiny child just plowed through eight feet of igneous rock like it was wet paper. There is currently a Jonathan shaped hole in the side of Infinity Island's most monumental landmarks that looked as though it was created via a Looney Tunes Cartoon. The realization didn’t even cross Jonathan’s mind because he only has one goal in mind and that was to get Dami the heck out of there!

“Jonathan-!”

“I’m really really sorry, but kind of a butt for doing what you did to me! I’m still really mad about that by the way and I don’t forgive you but I still love you so that’s okay because I know why you did it, but anyways we need to get you out of here cause your grandpa is a body snatcher! I drank the magic kool-aid so I know what I’m talking about when I say that they’re trying to make you not you by putting you in the giant drinking cup with the green kool-aid because Nobody, that’s the name of a girl I met but her name might be Felicity, said that the water makes you crazy and lose your mind! They don’t want your mind Dami and it would be super great if you could just come home with me, but I also understand if you don’t want to because this is your home but you definitely can’t come back here because even if you don’t want to be with me I don’t want you to die. We still haven’t experienced Christmas together or New Years or Valentine’s day or my birthday and it would suck all of the butts if you missed my birthday because-”

“JONATHAN!”

“I celebrated your birthday twice and if you don’t even celebrate my birthday once we are going to have problems! You think you can decide things for me and I know it’s sounding like I’m deciding this for you but I’m not because after this you are free to do whatever you want but know that I’m also going to do what I want and what I want is to be with you-”

“Jonathan you complete and utter imbecile, DUCK!” Damian manages to scream uninterrupted as he tackles the younger boy to the ground of the flower field beneath their feet and Jon wonders when they even got there. How did they even get outside?

Jon doesn’t have too long to think about such things as he watches the black bat-shaped plane that brought him to the island in the first place fly above their heads dangerously close to the ground, and into the side of Damian’s palace. “My Dami plushie is in there! I even named him Better Dami because he listens to me-”

“GOLIATH!” The older boy screeches at an unholy volume then glares at the smaller boy under him. “Jonathan, Jonathan take me back!” 

“Huh?”

“My Goliath, Jonathan! My wonderful beautiful Goliath is in there and God helps me if whatever Drake is planning hurts him I will personally hold you responsible.” He growls as he shakes Jon by the lapels of his training gi. 

“Uh-huh…” Jon says confused as he takes off his training clothes to reveal his superhero costume underneath. “How am I supposed to get you there?”

Emerald eyes stared at him in disbelief and wow Jonathan didn’t realize how much he missed looking into them until now. “Jonathan, you just sprinted 130 kilometers across the entirety of my homeland!

Now it’s Jon’s turn to stare at the other in disbelief. “No way… When did that happen?”

“JUST NOW! ARGH!” Damian shouts in frustration as he throws his arms up to the heavens. “Why did I even miss you?! This is terrible!”

“You missed me?” The second-grader beams ignoring the terrible part.

“Jonathan take me to see Goliath!” He urges angrily.

Jon huffs but complies as he pushes his friend off him and examines his body. “How am I supposed to carry you? You’re big and I don’t know if you noticed, but I’m smaller than when we last saw each other.”

“Because Drake fed you that horrid concoction-”

“He didn’t feed me anything. I got thirsty and I wasn’t allowed to drink kool-aid so I found this juice pouch with water in it-”

“Why do I try reasoning with you? It’s like trying to talk sense to a wall.” Damian grunts before pointing at Jon accusingly. “Why are you even here? So you can drag me back to Gotham kicking and screaming? So you can make me a part of the happy life you want without any regard to how I feel-”

“Oh, that’s rich coming from YOU of all people!” Jon shouts, stomping his foot down and marches right into the older boy’s personal space while jabbing a finger into his forehead. “Little Dami Wayne, you can cry me a freaking river when you get your act together and be the person you keep trying to prove to everyone you are!”

The ten-year-old scoffs and slaps the hand away from him before sneering down at the young child before him. “-Tt- What does that have to do with you foolishly coming to my home on a whim? Don’t act like you’re doing this for solely altruistic reasons, we both know you’re not humble enough for that. Richard already tried giving the spiel about how the League is dangerous and all that nonsense. Do you have anything new to bring to the table or are you going to be a broken record?”

Jon glares up at Damian, an expression that doesn’t have much of an effect due to his chubby cheeks that have been made more prominent by the addition of baby fat. “You’re right, I could tell you how everyone is wanting you to do something, be something, that you don’t even know you want! I could tell you how there’s more to your sad life than trying to rule the world from a small little island that’s not even on the map! I could try and tell you that you’re a freaking butt and I hate you for it so you should come home where things are better than assassins that think holding hands is a weakness! I could do a lot of things, but none of that matters because you already had this conversation with me in your head a million times and that obviously didn’t get you to come home you self hating jerkface!

“So here’s what’s going to happen. We’re going to get your dragon monster truck, I’m getting you off this island because no one here loves you, and you can do whatever the heck you want after that! I don’t care if you go to Gotham or not because if you don’t want to go I’m not going to make you.”

“Yet you decide that staying in my ancestral home is obsolete? What makes you qualified to command me with such fervor?” He questions arrogantly.

Frustrated, Jon tangles his fingers into his hair and turns away from his friend for a second to scream into the abyss of the beach below the field. Once that was done he took a deep breath and looked back at Damian. “Your grandpa wants to steal your body and you’re okay with that?!”

“This notion that Grandfather wants to take my body for himself is absurd. There are more efficient ways to erase and break one’s mind without the use of the Lazarus Pit.”

“There are more effective ways to heal a body without magic mind breaking green kool-aid.” Jon spits back with a vengeance. “I heard that your family has been keeping themselves alive for years with that weird stuff. Suddenly you're a prince who will one day be king to a guy that has been ruling this place for who knows how long. Dami, you know I’m not smart but I thought of this just now! You’re going to be his heir because you’re going to be him! He doesn’t want you, he wants what you have!”

“Then why would he make me go through all that I have been through if he was just going to throw me away!” He fights back, pushing Jonathan away. “Why would he make me suffer and prove my worth, train my mind, if he didn’t want what I could provide!?”

“Cause he’s a giant butt like you can be sometimes! If he cared about you then you wouldn’t have needed to prove anything to him because that’s not what family is about!” Jon roars as he pushes Damian back with enough force to throw him several years away thanks to his enhanced strength. “I know I sound crazy, but I’m telling you the truth and if there is any part of you that has ever been my friend then you’ll know I wouldn’t make it up just to get you to come back!”

“And if I don’t believe you and decide to stay and fix whatever mess you created in my home!?” Damian challenges as he gestures towards the burning palace that was his home.

“THEN I’M GOING TO STAY HERE WITH YOU!” The younger boy declares vehemently with a stubborn flash in his eyes. “I’ll stay here with you because I love you! I’ll keep you safe because that’s what you do when you care about someone!” The older boy doesn’t quip back with an argument about how Jon is being dumb like he expected and Jon glances down at his stunned friend who was gawking at him incredulously. “What? Aren’t you going to tell me I’m being dumb or that I shouldn’t because I don’t know what I’m getting myself into? How about it Dami; tell me how I shouldn't stay here with you because you’re a bad person and don’t want me involved with whatever this is. If you’re so set on staying here then how come I can’t too?”

Damian groans and drags his hands down his face before flopping down on the grass in defeat. “I hate you.”

“Say it a few more times and maybe I’ll start to believe you.” Jon sighs and plops down next to him. “So what do you want to do?”

“You want me to go home-”

“That’s not what I asked, Dami. Answer the question.” He cuts off quickly.

Damian exhales exhaustingly. “What other choice do I have? I either stay here and do what I was meant to or go home and waste away to live a normal life. Neither of those sounds appealing to me.”

“Why are those your only two choices? Dami, you’re smart; you can do anything you want. You sound like a quitter if those are the only things you can come up with.” Jonathan states tucking his knees to his chest. “If you can’t come up with one now then you can do it later and I’ll be right there with you when you do.”

“-Tt- Has anyone ever told you that you’re obsessive? Because you are.”

“I can deal with that at therapy if I ever come home.”

“If?”

Jon shrugs and stares at his friend on the ground. “I’m going to stay with you and that means if you don’t come back neither will I.”

The older boy sighs and sits up, brushing the dirt from his silk robe. “You say I have a choice but it keeps sounding like an ultimatum.”

“Maybe it only sounds like that because you already know what you have to do.”

Damian sighs one last time before standing up and pulling Jon along with him. “Let me grab my belongings.”

“Got it.” He says with a positive thumbs up that cause his older friend to groan in annoyance and embarrassment. “So do I just drag you again or-”

“Don’t you dare make me relive that experience; You almost dislocated my shoulder.” The ten-year-old pleads, shaking his head in disapproval.

“Okay!” Jon bends down and grabs Dami by the knees and uses his other hand to catch his upper back. “Wow! Super strength is fun!”

“DON’T PRINCESS CARRY ME YOU VILE HEATHEN!” Damian protests as he tries to push himself out of the hold. “This is humiliating!”

“You’re too tall to piggyback now and you carried me like this once so suck it up,” Jon explains as he rolls his eyes at his enraged companion.

“I will not ‘suck it up’ because- Ack!”

The son of Superman doesn’t wait for Damian to finish his sentence as he’s already using the enhanced strength in his legs to propel both of them towards the burning building. Jonathan enters the palace by making another hole in the structure right next to the one the not bat-plane created. He looks inside to see if his backpack was still inside to find it completely ransacked. The little boy pouts and hops down from the vehicle dejectedly before continuing through the burning building to where Damian said his dragon-bat resides. 

The door to the cage was completely unguarded and Damian opened his mouth to say something about the strange occurrence but Jonathan simply headbutted the large metal door off its hinges. “Must you do this in a barbaric manner? I know the combination to the door.”

“But I wanted to knock the door down,” Jon responds simply unphased by the destruction.

“Super-strength should never be a power in the possession of an emotionally vulnerable second-grader.” He laments covering his eyes.

“So where’s Goliath?” Jon asks as he ignores the comment about himself.

“Jonathan, I know your perceptiveness is on par with a blind squirrel but even you cannot miss the gigantic beast sitting atop a cliff.”

“Um… I don’t.” He states and tries to point at the empty changes swinging around them and the lack of a red dragon-bat. “Are you sure this is the right place?”

“...What?” Damian questions as he studies the area around them. He pinches his thumb and forefinger together then sticks it into his mouth while blowing to create an incredibly loud whistling sound that echoes through the chamber and empty walls. “Jon put me down.” He does as he is told and follows Damian as he sprints to the edge where the largest charge in the entire room is left wide open and empty. “Goliath!” Damian shouts with his hands around his mouth to exaggerate the volume. “GOLIATH!”

“Do not waste your breath, my son.” A woman says from behind them and the boys jump at the noise for different reasons: Jonathan because he was startled and Damian because he knew who said it.

“Mother…” Damian addresses as he looks up at the woman with her hands on the hilt of a sheathed blade.

“You are so very predictable.” She says cooly as her heels click closer to the duo. “Are you trying to leave your home after everything we’ve done for you? Have I raised you to be ungrateful?” Instantly Jonathan puts himself between the two of them because the woman is giving him some terrible feelings. He doesn’t know why he feels bad but he knows to listen to his gut when it’s screaming at him. She looks down at the seven-year-old with an amused smirk before addressing her son again. “Mind telling me your plans, love?”

“I… Yes, Mother.” He answers submissively, a tone Jonathan has never heard him use before. “I… Jonathan has informed me of a plot Grandfather has concocted to continue ruling the League. I’m going to seek sanctuary at father’s.”

“Leaving your dear mother alone,” Talia adds as she stops right in front of Jonathan.

“Mother, that’s not what I-” Damian interjects but she quiets him with a look.

“Shhhh, I know.” She coos and lifts her right hand to caress the boy’s face but is intercepted by the other child.

“D-don’t touch him!” Jon shouts with a shaky voice. “I’m sorry but you’re giving me a bad feeling and last time I got a bad feeling like this I think I almost died!”

The brunette sneers at the half-Kryptonian hybrid sickeningly, not even trying to show her disdain. “Son, have you decided what you were going to do with this… friend of yours?”

Damian audibly swallows and replies, “I’m- no, we’re going to go home and I’ll decide what is best for me there.”

“You’re not planning on using him for anything.”

“No.” He says confidently. “That was never an option, Mother. I promised Jonathan and myself that I wouldn’t use him. When you gave me the option I already knew it wasn’t one I was willing to put him through.”

“I see.” Talia sighs as she puts her hand back on the hilt of the blade at her hip. “Then you know what I must do.”

“Mother,” The ten-year-old chokes out pleadingly. “It is true, isn’t it! What Jonathan said, Grandfather’s true ambitions, you must have known the entire time! Why else would you have subjected me to the treatments, the experiments, if making me his vessel wasn’t your endgame! Mother, tell me it isn’t so!”

“Son, I love you more than anything else in this world and I expect greatness from you.” She begins as she pulls the blade out from it’s covering to reveal a glowing green radiance pouring from the sword.

“Mother, it doesn’t have to be this way!” Damian says desperately as he grabs Jonathan’s cape and drags him closer. “You can stop this! I’ll forgive you and we can go to Father’s together to be a family! Isn’t that what you wanted?” 

She tsks her tongue in the manner Damian usually does as she steps closer to the two young children until they end up cornered in Goliath’s empty cage. “-Tt- And here I hoped that our time apart had matured those foolish assumptions out of you, but I see I was wrong. I will cut down what is holding you back so that you may redeem yourself.” In one quick motion, she brings the sharp weapon down on her child, and without hesitation, Jonathan pushes his best friend out of the way.

The last thing Jonathan remembers experiencing before he’s hit is light pressure on the back of his neck and the horrified cries of Dami in his ears.

Damian on the other hand isn’t as lucky as Jonathan. He catches the boy’s head in his arms and hugs it tightly to his heart as if the action would make his condition better, but Jon’s body continues to drop to the floor. Tears uncontrollably pout from the ten-year-olds eyes as he holds his best friend’s face tighter as his blood pools around his feet. The child lifts the severed head in his arms shakily as the blood from his neck drains onto his clothes.

Talia meanwhile resheathes her blade and pushes her son’s hands down, but the soft pressure brings him to his knees as he continues to cradle the boy he loves in his arms. “There, now you can keep your friend and he’ll be less inclined to put foolish ideas in your head.”

“No! No, Jonathan, no, please no. This can’t be happening. I must be experiencing madness again. Y-yes that’s it, I must be seeing things.” He brushes loose strands of hair that have fallen over Jonathan’s now dull blue eyes behind his ears and nearly drops the limb. “I felt that. Oh Gods this is real. This- Jonathan, please wake up! I shouldn’t have- No, you shouldn’t have come here! This is exactly why you shouldn’t have come here you stupid stupid boy! Can’t you see I knew what was best for you!? Why didn’t you see I was just trying to protect you!”

“It’s a pity he didn’t see it as well my beloved son. Now come along, Father must be finished dealing with Batman’s wards by now.” She orders sternly as she turns away from the bloody scene.

“What?!” Damian shouts at his mother appallingly causing her to look back at him. “Y-you killed my best friend and you expect me to simply return to you as though nothing happened!”

Confused, Talia crosses her arms over her bosom and taps her heel impatiently. “Son, I’ve beheaded hundreds of your other tools but this is what causes you to throw a childish tantrum?”

“I’M TEN!” The boy shouts as he sets the piece of his friend next to his body. “I’m only ten! My birthday was four months ago! If being righteously infuriated that you killed one of the few good things in my life is a childish tantrum then I’ll throw the biggest tantrum you’ve ever seen!”

“Damian, don’t talk to your mother so disrespectfully!” Talia commands before dodging a kick to her head. “What are you doing!”

“Getting rid of you so I can leave cause I’m sure as fuck not going to stay here!” He replies as he throws a fist in her direction.

“Don’t use such vulgar language unfit of an Al-Ghul!”

“I’m not! My name is Damian Wayne and if the Waynes have taught me anything it’s that I can say whatever the FUCK I want!” He proclaims, throwing away his traditional League of Assassin garment to the floor and therefore his family name with it.

Then he charges.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah, I just did that. I started off a chapter playing Baby Shark of all things and ended it on murder. I am the master of inconsistent atmospheres. For those of you worrying about Jon... welp... sorry about that. Obviously *Spoilers* he's gonna be fine because I'm not ballsy enough or cruel enough to murder the man character in the middle of the story.
> 
> Damian meanwhile... I'm that clip of Oprah pointing at everybody but instead of cause it's crippling trauma. He's coming to grips with a lot of stuff and the next chapter is going to be fun! 
> 
> Side note: that picture of Jon running with Damian is something I drew BEFORE chapter 17. I don't draw everything in order but I told y'all I had this story planned out far ahead. I'm putting way too much effort into this and I'm living for it!
> 
> Next Chapter: Leaving Infinity Island.


	33. Nuclear

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jonathan finishes his mission without too much trouble but it turns out he has little to look forward to in the future.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can already feel the grammar errors staring at me in the face but I edited this bitch three times. FUCK IT! Thank y'all for reading and for the comments on the last chapter! I love it! Note: Another title I honestly contemplated calling this chapter is Jonathan terrifying Goliath for almost 10k words. But that was too long. You'll find out why.

Gotham City was different than Jonathan remembered it being, but then again he’s never seen it from the tops of the skyscrapers at night. It was almost enough to make the little boy forget that he was surrounded by a thick cloud of pollution. His chances of getting lung cancer skyrocketed by just being in this city. He’s surprised that the smog didn’t kill Batman first because it was almost unbearable.

Almost.

He can see why everyone in the Batfamily wanted to protect it when he looks over the horizon and sees the lit windows of the buildings fighting the darkness away like stars in the sky of a new moon. The world was backward in Gotham because the sky was right next to its people who can feel like they can fly without powers. Watching the outside world like this after so long stuck in the manor is like being able to breathe for the first time after being killed: it was terrifying yet exhilarating. 

He hops down from the brick ledge of the roof access and dashes up to the teenager sitting on the edge of the adjacent building next to him with his feet dangling off the edge of the frame. Jon’s practically vibrating in his shoes with how jittery the child is causing the experienced vigilante to laugh. A gloved hand ruffles itself through his hair fondly before going back to holding a pair of binoculars to the cowled face.

“Isn’t it hard to see through your mask?” Jon questions with all the innocence a nine-year-old could muster.

“Not really.” His mentor shrugs nonchalantly. “I got used to it after a while.”

“That means it’s still kinda hard!” He concludes confidently and pulls the bird-like hood off the teenager’s head. “No one else could even come up here, so we don’t have ta’ hide anythin’!

The boy yelps at having his face covering so easily removed before sighing and scolding the little boy. “Chickadee! You never take off another hero’s mask!”

“Bu’ I’m ain’t wearing a mask.” Jon defends with a pout and both his hands on his hips.

“That’s because you wear those special glasses you inherited from your dad.” The older boy retorts, but doesn’t make an effort to re-cowl himself. “Remember, when we get down there we must stay vigilant and stay together. When I tell you to run, you run as far away from the action as possible and stay in one place.”

The boy thinks about those instructions for only a moment before replying, “How can we stick together if you tell me to run? Doesn’t that con… contracept- no, controls-”

“Contradict.”

“Yeah, that.”

“What I’m trying to say is that you stick with me until it gets too dangerous. It’s what Batman told me to do when I was Robin and now I’m bestowing this knowledge onto you.” The vigilante places his technology back into his golden utility belt then prepares to move when a bombastic voice interrupts him.

“I got you now Red Robin! I know your secret identity and will show da world!” A deep voice declares in a faux nasally tone.

Royal blue eyes roll so far back into their skull Jonathan’s almost worried they’ll get stuck like that. “Superboy, what kind of voice is that?”

The leather jacket-wearing teen flies up with the camcorder against the lens of his sunglasses with a light chuckle. “I was trying to do Joker but I think it melted into Riddler.”

“I think you channeled Fran Fine.” Tim groans but doesn’t appear as bothered as his attitude might suggest. “And get that camera outta our face before I take the kryptonite in my bo-staff and shove it up your ass: you’re compromising our secret identities.”

“Sure thing, but humor me, just for a sec.” He pleads as he tries to focus the lens of the old camera. “I promised I’d get Chris a memento. He’s been real busy with Metropolis since… ya know, and wanted to see Jon in action.”

“Now?” Tim scoffs but complies by throwing a peace sign at the camera while Jon smiles down at his older brother. “We’ve been active for a year and he decides to care now?”

“Hey, training and patrolling in costume are two completely different things. Besides, I think he’s trying to be around more but it’s hard cause he’s Superman now. It makes me wonder how Clark did it, ya know?”

“You don’t wanna call ‘im Dad?” Tim jokes already knowing the answer.

“Bruh, no. That’s like calling Lex Luthor my dad. Although Jon will always be my cool little brother, isn’t that right Jonno?” Kon-El asks cheerfully as he points the camcorder to him.

“Yep!” The little boy nods with a wide-open mouth grin. “Kon, are you going to help us fight bad guys! It’s gonna be super extra amazingly awesome! I’m gonna kick so much butt!” Jon demonstrates his newly developed fighting prowess by pulling out a wooden retractable bo-staff to pull off a complicated martial arts kata, and utterly failing by immediately falling on his back.

The older half-Kryptonian hybrid winces at the impact then closes his camera. “Okay, I don’t think Chris needs to see any of _that_. I’ll edit it out later.”

“Isn’t that a film camcorder?” Tim points out as Kon puts it in his large jacket pocket. “Do you even know how to edit film?”

“No, but I know you do.” He grins cheekily before flying higher to stand on the ledge the teen was sitting on. “You’ll do it for me, right babe?”

Tim rolls his eyes again, but smiles and playfully shoves the other’s leg. “You’re lucky you’re cute. Come on, Chickadee, let’s go!”

“I still think you could have come up with a different name.”

“Well he can’t very well be Robin now, can he?”

“Maybe if Robin ever kicks the bucket-”

“Please don’t say that. Knowing our luck you might make it come true.” Tim quickly cuts off as Jon gets off the dirty concrete flooring of the roof. “Come on, I’ve trained you better than that.”

The boy brushes off the dust and dirt off his bright yellow cape with embarrassed rosy cheeks and a shy smile. “Sorry, I guess I got too excited!”

The two of them walk off the ledge of the skyscraper where Tim holds the young child by the waist and fires off his grappling gun to swing them to their next destination. The feeling of freefalling is something exhilarating that Jonathan hopes he never gets used to because he doesn’t want to lose that whimsical excitement of towing over a city. They were already shrouded in darkness but for some reason, the yellow lights of Gotham fade into complete blackness.

No longer is he swinging through the skies but instead standing before a large black throne too large for a mere human to sit upon. The clacking of shoes alerts him to an intruder in his mists and the teenager gets ready to use his laser vision to shoot a hole through the knees of whoever tried to sneak up on him. Much to his relief, he didn’t have to mortally wound anyone because it was just his guardian typing away on his laptop as he moved to stand next to the taller male.

“Hey Tim-”

“Names, Robin.”

Sky blue eyes roll and the sixteen-year-old boy crosses his arms over his chest in annoyance. “Batman, no one is even here beside us.” He complains as he moves closer to the seat. “So are you gonna sit in it or am I?”

“Robin, don’t you even think about placing your ass in that thing.” Tim groans tiredly, pinching the bridge of his nose before reaching to his belt for a canister of his coffee. “It might not be powered but that doesn’t mean it’s harmless-”

“Too late!” Jon cheers as he plops down onto the hard black seat. “Yeash, this thing is uncomfortable! How the heck did that Metron guy manage to sit in this thing for so long?”

“Robin, do you have no sense of danger?! That thing is supposed to kill those unworthy of sitting on it by destroying their mind-!”

“You said the same thing about the Miracle Machine and yet here I am, not dead.” Jon drones as he spins to the side and lays down over the armrests like the Mobius Chair was a soft french duvet. “Arrrgggh, I’m so bored! Are you done yet? I want to go back to the Watchtower and sleep for the rest of my life.”

“Almost,” Batman announces as he resigns himself to his ward's stupidity. “But I would be done a lot faster if SOMEONE didn’t eat the power source of the greatest machines in the multiverse!”

“Hey, it’s not my fault Element X looks and tastes like candy!”

“It only looked and tasted like candy because you were thinking of candy!”

“And it’s your job, as my guardian, to make sure I don’t go hungry so whose fault is it really?!”

“YOURS!” The older man screams in frustration as he nearly slams his laptop on the ground in frustration. “You’re sixteen, not six! You should be over the eating random things phase of life by now!”

“Well, just for that I’m going to make sure I eat even more random things just to spite you!” Jonathan shouts back pointing at his mentor accusingly. “Plus it’s not like it was a big deal. Didn’t you want to get rid of the stuff anyways cause other dimensions kept invading to take it away from us? Element X is totally overhyped; I didn’t even get any new cool cosmic superpowers.”

He hears Batman facepalm at his lament before methodically continuing to waste away at his computer to do whatever Batman does in this situation. “Next time, when I tell you to get rid of something, don’t eat it like I’m a teacher asking to read a note you passed in class. Superman is going to kill me if he ever found out you did that under my watch.”

Jon shrugs at the mention of his mostly absent older brother and slumps in his seat further. “Like he’s even around to do anything. Why does the Justice League even want this junk anyway?”

“To destroy it,” Batman answers simply as he closes the laptop and walks up to Jon. “Once all of the creations of the world forge are gone our dimension will finally know peace. I added the plan to your reading list.”

“Argh, I can’t believe you’re still making me study when out on a mission,” Jon whines as he runs his hand back through his hair. “I expect you want to carry this gaudy lawn chair back to the tower so we can have all of the most dangerous objects in the universe destroyed in the same place as one giant target?”

He can see the man roll his eyes from behind the cowl and a heavy gauntleted hand smacks him upside the head. “Jon-”

“Oooooo, you used my real name! I’m telling Spoiler!” The teenager laughs earning him another smack on the head. “Alright, alright, I’ll stop. You can’t take a joke these days.”

“We’re going to dismantle it here and the Lantern Corps will handle getting rid of the materials.” He finishes explaining as Tim circles the entirety of the powerful God-like weapon. "What I want you to do is to memorize it.”

“I’m sorry, what?” Jon blurts out wide-eyed.

“Remember what you did with the Miracle Machine and the boxes? That’s what I want you to do so that it can be added to the Bat Computer’s archives in case we need it.” The twenty-four-year-old man answers as he uses a tool from his belt to dismantle the back panel.

Jon sighs and gets to studying the remnants of the obsolete machine as the hero breaks it apart like it was simple IKEA furniture. “See, this is why it’s usually Batman that goes crazy and takes over the multiverse; too much knowledge. Sometimes ya gotta let things be forgotten, Tim.”

“If I could pick and choose what I can forget the world would be a dangerous place.” Tim describes as he unplugs the seat from its dead battery. “Some people say that ignorance is bliss, I say it’s a flaw.”

The teenager tilts his head further into the device, needing to push away his bright yellow cape to do so. “I don’t get why you have to get rid of this thing. I bet we could probably make a machine better than the ones we destroyed that could make the world a better place-”

The older man immediately covers his mouth and uses the infamous bat-glare on the boy. “Jonathan, nothing ever goes well when people have those kinds of thoughts. It’s usually the beginning of the end for specific universes and I’ll be damned if you’re the cause of this one’s.”

“You’re being overdramatic.” Jon protested, pushing the hand off his mouth. “And I wasn’t serious, it was just a dumb fantasy.”

“A dumb fantasy by a hormonal teenager that ate the last remnants of Element X in this universe.” Tim points out as he takes the powerless battery out of the machine. “Speaking of that, stand back and don’t touch anything else. I don’t want you somehow accidentally powering up this machine.”

Jon groans and obediently moves back with a rigid pout. “You don’t want me getting close but you want me getting close enough to memorize it!?!”

“Yes.”

“Arrrggghhh! I hate you!” The teen screams, kicking the dead power source out of his mentor’s hands and across the room.

“Don’t talk to me like that young man!”

“Don’t talk to me like you're my Dad! My Dad’s dead!”

“Don’t you start this with me, Chickadee, because I’ve lost a helluva lot more than you if this is how you want to fight me!” Tim argues back standing up and pointing a stern index finger at his much taller charge. “Now, you get to memorizing this stupid chair or so help me-”

“So help you what!? I’m bigger and stronger than you! You can’t do anything to me-”

“God help me Jon-”

“God ain’t gonna help ya now cause that bitch does nothing-”

“Don’t you dare invoke the wrath of the Presence in my house young man-”

“WE’RE ON THE FUCKING MOON!”

“LANGUAGE!”

“Guys?” A new voice interrupts, causing both of the men in the room to halt their squabbling and aim their weapons (A bo-staff and laser eyes) at the intruder. They promptly power down and relax as it’s only a familiar muscular brunette in a red cape walking towards them. The Man of Steel slides between the men and lightly pushes both of them apart as during their spat the two have gotten up in each other’s faces. “Hey, I know everyone’s stressed out but that’s no reason to be at one another’s throats directly behind the Mobius Chair of all things.”

Tim huffs immaturely with Jonathan doing the exact same thing before greeting the newcomer. “Superman.”

“Batman.” He greets curtly back as he turns to his little brother with a smile. “Heya Jonno, long time no see!”

The teenager releases a lengthy exhale then sassily places both of his hands on his hips. “Who’s fault is that?”

The man’s smile falters but does it’s best to remain on his complexion. “Sorry about that, but after we’re done with this I’ll be free for the next few weeks. Maybe we can go out for ice cream in New Metropolis or to the Zoo. You still like the Zoo, right?”

A sliver of a smile manages to crack through the stoic facade Jon desperately tried to keep. “It reminds me of Dami. Dami loved the Zoo.”

“At least he did when he wasn’t trying to free all the animals.” Tim laughs at a distant memory.

“Hey, that was the best part!”

Pleased by the positive reaction, Superman kneels to the gutted machine and begins to inspect it closely. “We better get to work then!”

“Right.” Batman agrees as he dismantles it with the help of his heroic counterpart.

The duo works on dismantling the once-powerful chair while Jonathan stands back and takes off his green Domino mask looking at it longingly. He can’t help but think that it shouldn’t be him wearing this mask. It shouldn’t be him standing in the universe wearing a stupidly colorful body armor where Damian Wayne should be.

“Jon, everything okay over there?” Christopher asks while holding a series of foreign wires in his grip as Tim cuts them loose.

“Yeah, I’m fine. I’m just… I’m just thinking about how things would be if Dami- I mean… If none of this stuff happened. If our Dads didn’t die or if we never discovered alternate realities do you think our lives would be better?” Jon questions reluctantly knowing that his mentor didn’t like that train of thought.

In accordance with his prediction Batman grunts and opens his mouth to shut Jon down again only for Superman to speak up before any protests could be made. “All the time,” Chris admits solemnly. “I think about how I should have been there when Dad died or how different things would be if I wasn’t the one wearing this symbol. I wonder every day about how Dad was able to protect the world and take care of his family when I can barely manage to do one of those things. I feel as though it’s only natural to wonder about the ‘what ifs’ because it might give us perspective on what to do when a similar situation arises.”

“That’s childish.” Batman rebuttals stoically, not bothering to look at either of the Kryptonians.

Christopher glares at the shorter man next to him but holds it back enough not to make his distaste for the man obvious. “What, you never think about how different things could be? Why must everything positive be so negative in your eyes? I don’t want you teaching Jon to be a pessimist-”

“I’ve spent most of my childhood thinking about hypotheticals and it got me nowhere. I wasted too much time wondering how life would be if my parents loved me, or how life would be if they were alive. I think about how maybe they’ll one day have a change of heart and stopped ignoring the son they didn’t want. I wondered about a world Bruce was still Batman and our family was in one piece. I used to dream about days where Kon-El was still alive, but I know that dreaming, thinking, wondering obsessively will only lead to obsessive madness.” He rants and finally looks at Jon with a callus scowl. “Get rid of those childish notions now or you’ll only be wasting time. Nothing good will come out of thinking about events that will never happen.”

Jon sighs, seeing his contemplations as futile, and moves to sit next to the two older men as they dismantle the machine. It’s surprisingly sparse for a contraption meant to know everything and travel through space-time. “Where’s the computer or the control panel? Was it really a bunch of wires attached to a car battery this entire time?”

“Machines like this were meant to channel a specific power and energy of Element X, not do something it couldn’t already.”

“Speaking of that stuff, I heard that you and Jon were in charge of containing it.” Chris ponders aloud as he sets the wires in his arms on the floor. “I didn’t see it anywhere in the base, so what did y’all do with it?”

Uh oh.

Before Jonathan could see what happens next he’s whisked away by a bright light and opens his eyes to see bright yellow iris staring down at him. The orbs were so incredibly large they almost enveloped the child’s vision causing the little boy to jump back in shock. At his sudden movement, the owner of the radiant eyes growls at Jon and a large mouth opens to reveal teeth the size of the seven-year-old’s head.

The hybrid braces himself on the stone ground and holds his hands up to protect himself. When nothing happens he peeks through his fingers to see that the monster is merely staring at him, waiting to see if Jonathan is a danger. Now that he sees that the animal doesn’t immediately intend on attacking him Jon carefully moves backward to get a better look at the creature. Its leathery wingspan was larger than his entire apartment and its claws were sharper than any kitchen knife he’s seen. It was at least sharper than the sword that hit him-

HE ALMOST FORGOT!

Quickly he shoots up from the floor and twirls around to look for his friend to find that he was still in the cage he last remembered being in with Damian nowhere in sight. “OH COME ON!” Jonathan shouts in frustration stopping his foot down. “I had him! He was right here and now he’s gone again!”

“Grrrrrrrrrrr…” The low growling of the red beast reaches his ears and his attention is momentarily taken off his defeat back to the animal. Jonathan takes a better look at the cat-like animal and immediately comes to a conclusion. 

“Fluffy!” He squeals running up to the creature with his arms spread wide.

The fluffy animal roars at Jon and swats at him like a fly, but due to his newly developed super-strength the paw ends up doing absolutely nothing as Jon wraps his arms around the creature’s neck. Jon was like an immovable rode that could not be stopped unless he wanted to and he did not want to. Jonathan has suffered worse injuries trying to pet cats before so a little smack wasn’t going to stop him.

The creature wriggles and roars violently in his grasp but Jon refused to let go instead of snuggling his face into the soft fur. He shakes his arms in the scruff of its squishy neck then feels a heavy steel collar. While maintaining his hug he trails one of his hands down the accessory and down a large chain with the end of it wet with what Jon can only assume was saliva. Ew. 

If Jonathan’s extremely mature deduction skills have any merit he would bet that this giant fluffy flying cat chewed his way out of his bindings; Something Jonathan can relate to. “Aww, you’re so big and fluffy like Clifford, the Big Red Dog! But you’re a cat. I think you’re a cat but I’ve never seen a cat with wings. What’s your name?”

He lifts the fur over the collar as it screams at Jon to release it to find his name. Thankfully the beast did have a name on the collar. “G-O-L-I… Oh! You’re Goliath! Where were you when Dami and I came looking for you!?” He scolds the beast by bopping it on the snout like he sees his mom do when he’s being naughty. “Now I have to find Dami again and you’re going to help me!” Goliath roars in his face again earring him another bop on the nose. “Bad Goliath! Bad kitty!”

Due to the second attack on its body, the pet tried to fly away, but Jonathan still had a forceful grip on its chain causing the escaping beast to instantly slam to the ground the second it tried to get away. Unfazed by his own rather barbaric actions Jon bops it on the nose again and instead of flying away Goliath attempts to eat his assailant but finds his razor-sharp teeth could not break through the meal's exterior. Instead of the screams of his victim the animal is rewarded with a burst of playful laughter. “Hehehe! Your tongue is funny looking! I heard tigers have weird tongues too because it has a bunch of sharp barbs on it. Oh hey what’s this?”

Revolted by the sensation on its uvula, Goliath gags Jonathan out of its mouth utterly repulsed and traumatized by the experience. “Ew, now I’m all gross.” Jon shivers as he uses the chain to climb onto Goliath’s back. “Let’s go find Dami!”

He looks up to find the strange child on it’s back in preparation to attack him again but is beaten into obedience by his new rider’s crazed and horrifying smile. “ **_I said we’re going to find Dami._ **”

With that in mind, Goliath reluctantly accepts his new tiny overload’s command and takes off out the open door Jonathan headbutted into submission earlier. The two of them fly out a tunnel the Kryptonian failed to notice before and are instantly soaring above the island at breakneck speeds. The dragon-bat appears to understand his words because without Jonathan having to direct it Goliath sniffs the air then sharply turns to where his real master must be.

It’s a good thing Goliath knows what to do because Jonathan sure as heck doesn’t because he can’t ride a bike let alone a flying kitty. He knows Damian says it’s a dragon-bat but Jon knows what a cat looks like and this is a freaking cat; A cat with bat wings. Infinity Island from this height looks as beautiful as a water painting. It was almost unreal how vast and diverse the landscape was with its countless rainbow flower fields and lush jungles. The beaches were this perfectly clean shoreline with water so clear Jon could see the fish swimming inside from a mile into the sky. It would have been more picture-perfect if the not-Bat Plane didn’t crash into the castle above the town causing everyone to scream horrifically. Jon never knew that a stone building could be set on fire, but he guesses there’s something new to learn every day. 

Goliath flies onto the lava skull that probably has a formal name but Jonathan doesn’t care enough to discover what it could be. The being lands on the top of the skull and paws at it insistently. Jon wonders why it just doesn’t go through the door, the mouth, or the Jonathan shaped hole in the side.

Oh well.

With his tiny hand still clutching the chain, Jonathan slides down the side of the fluffy red creature and onto the top of the skull to search for a secret door. The second-grader spends about a minute in the unforgiving noon sun before realizing that he doesn’t need to find a secret entrance; he can make one! Jonathan begins feeling around for a flat part of the jagged rock that would be best for his plans then grabs another end of the large chain to hold like a jump rope.

“Cinderella, dressed in yellow

Went upstairs to kiss her fellow

Made a mistake

And kissed a snake

How many doctors

Did it take?

One, two, three, four, five, six-”

With all the uncontrolled strength he can muster Jonathan stomps his foot down on the top of the skull with each jump he makes, quaking the entire structure and terrifying the poor dragon-bat forced to watch this monster of a child destroy his surroundings.

“Seven, eight, nine, ten- WOAH!”

Ten was the lucky number because as soon as he hit that number the entire ceiling collapsed causing both Jonathan and Goliath to fall. Thankfully Goliath managed to flap his wings in time to stop Jonathan from plummeting down into the lava. The sound of people screaming reaches his ears as he easily climbs the chain back up onto Goliath. 

“Good Job, Kitty!” Jon congratulates as he scritches Goliath begins his pointy ears. He looks down at the petrified and panicking audience to discover that Damian isn’t in there at all! “Hey, I said to find Dami!”

“What the fuck?!” He hears Dick yell hysterically from under Tim who has his bo-staff pressed against his brother’s neck.

Leaning down Jon replies, “Are you still fighting?!”

“What is going on?!”

“Superboy, where’s Damian!?” Tim asks, ignoring the obvious question.

“I lost him again but I’m going to find him with this kitty!” The boy replies before a thought pops into his head. “Also our plane crashed into the castle! Was that surprise to happen?”

“Yes! Now go!” The teenager shouts as Jon sees him get off his brother and throws his weapon at the binding holding the Flash in place, instantly breaking them.

“I’m sorry you did what?! WHAT HAPPENED!?”

“Okie!” Once again Dick Grayson is ignored as Jon pats Goliath’s head and the two fly off hopefully to where Damian is this time. “Now find Dami!”

Then they’re off again back to the castle which kinda makes Jon feel annoyed because they were just there! Goliath makes another hole next to the two holes on the side of the building that was already there. Jon hopes that’s fixable because those are a lot of holes. The seven-year-old looks at the fire around him to see why Goliath stopped next to the plane when he hears a soft high pitch beeping. Huh, weird, but there’s still no Damian!

“Goliath, I’m starting to think that you’re not a smart kitty.” Jon huffs looking down at the dragon-bat.

Goliath mewls then lay its head down on the ground to crawl through the flames with the son of Superman still on his back. The animal weaves through the flames gracefully as the sound of a tussle grows closer. That is not where Damian’s heartbeat is coming from but Jon is giving the cat another chance to redeem himself in his efforts to find his friend.

He comes across Conner who quite honestly is looking as though he’s having the greatest time of his life fighting the League of Assassins’ assassins. The teenagers swiftly hurls his assailant over his shoulder into a group of other green-clad ninjas before using his super-speed to tie all of them together with their clothes. In celebration of his victory, Conner promptly punches the wall adjacent to him with a fierce battle cry and the widest smile Jonathan has ever seen on his face.

“YEEEEEAAAAAAH! LET’S FUCKING GO!” He yells before punching another wall for no reason whatsoever. “Bring it on! I can do this forever! Fuck you Dad, I know what I’m doing; I can handle myself!”

“Hi, Kon-El!” Jon approaches him remembering to use code names.

His brother beams at the sight of his little brother on the magnificent beast and leaps up from his spot directly to where Jon sat much to Goliath’s chagrin. “Hey Superboy!” He winks as if the name was some sort of important insider information which Jon guesses it is. “This is some sweet ride ya got here!”

“Thanks! This is Dami’s dragon but I think it’s more of a cat.”

“Never seen a fluffy dragon before so you’re probably right.” Conner shrugs as he hops down at the sound of more assassins rushing towards them. “Anyways, I’m going to be living the dream and kicking ass- I mean butt. I will be kicking butt. Do you want to join me?”

Jon shakes his head. “No, I still have to find Dami.”

“That makes sense.” Conner agrees before looking at Jon one more time. “Hey, did you get taller again?”

“Huh?” The boy looks at himself and notices that his clothing does fit a bit better than he remembered it fitting earlier. “That’s weird. Maybe the magic kool-aid wore off.”

“Maybe.” The teen nods before turning his head to shoot an oncoming ninja in the shin. “Welp, I’m going to keep doing this.”

“Hey, where’s Nobody and Col- I mean Abuse,” Jon asks, noticing they’re not around. “Didn’t you run off with them?”

Conner thinks for a moment, crossing his arms and kicking his heel back to shoot marble debris behind him. “Tim told Nobody to do something while I distracted the guards and Abuse went with her for protection. I thought crashing a plane would be enough of a distraction, but it just made them want to fight which I am not complaining about. I’m finally fighting ninjas again!”

“Where did they go?”

“I dunno, but that Felicity-Nobody kid sure seemed to know where to go.”

Jon thinks for a moment however he can’t seem to think where they could be. “Okay! I’m going to find Dami, you have fun!”

“I will!”

Goliath turns around and makes yet another hole next to the one he made so that there were now a total of four holes in the same wall. Eventually, the creature runs up to one of the nearby volcanoes, the giant flying cat claws at the side of the wall. Jonathan slides off Goliath once more and gives the flying beast a stern look.

“Dami better be behind this wall because if he isn’t I’m going to boop you on the nose again.” Jon threatens as he presses his palm on the base of the volcano and focuses his hearing. 

The sound is faint but he does indeed hear the methodic heartbeat of Damian Wayne somewhere within the rock. Jonathan digs his blunt nails into the rock and begins to rip out chunks of rock out of the mountain, pulverizing it into a fine dust as he strolls his way inside dragging Goliath along with him. The poor beast digs his claws into the ground as to not be forced inside through the narrow entrance Jonathan provided, but the boy was oblivious to its plight as he unknowingly drags the large creature inside by the chain.

Maybe this is why cats hate Jonathan.

It’s honestly disturbing to have a child with the power to collapse entire nations with the sheer strength of his pinky finger alone on what appears to be a one-man mission to look for a ten-year-old. Jonathan continues his single-minded goal of reaching Damian until he can feel the immense heat of what he assumes to be lava at the center of the volcano. At the final scratch of his path of destruction, Jon breaks through the last of the wall and feels one of his shoes get wet. He looks down to witness his right shoe begin to dissolve in bubbly green kool-aid from the bottom of the wall he was in the process of tearing down.

Agitated by the destruction of his shoe, Jon kicks it off while Goliath desperately tries to crawl it’s way out to escape the steadily pouring liquid. The seven-year-old puts the chain in his left hand between his teeth to yank Goliath still as he climbs up the wall to begin scratching a pathway above so he wouldn’t accidentally flood themselves out of the cavern he created. Jonathan finally manages to hit open-air and crawls out of the wall with Goliath in tow.

The dragon-bat immediately tries to leave Jonathan behind by flying into the heart of the mountain but the little boy simply tugs at the chain still in his mouth to pull the beast back to him. He climbs onto the back of the winded creature and bops it on the nose for trying to leave him. “No, bad Goliath! We have to stick together!”

Goliath whines but allows himself to be mounted. Jonathan finishes seating himself on the animal’s back and looks down to see that the entire floor is filled with that strange glowing kool-aid Jonathan remembers Nobody telling him about; Lazarus water. That stuff is supposed to make anyone that touches it go crazy or die. Honestly, he doesn’t remember what it does to normal people, but all that matters is that it’s bad for Damian.

Goliath’s keen sense of smell follows the flow of the toxic bubbling water through the winding and weaving cavern. The two of them end up at the base of the cavern to find Damian tied up on a metal platform being slowly lowered down into a green lake where the flow of water originated from. Coincidentally Colin, who was in his muscular form, and Nobody were there operating a wire lowering the table back. 

Jon didn’t know what he was expecting to find but this wasn’t it.

“Uh… Hi?” Jon greets as the three children balk at the sight of him.

“JON!?” Damian shouts through his gag.

The gargantuan ten-year-old looks at the other accusingly as he struggles to stop the wire from submerging Damian into the waters. “You said he died!”

“He did!”

“Well, he got better!” Nobody shouts as she fiddles with a computer attached to the devices trying to drown Damian. “Jon, don’t just stand there, help us!”

How long was Jonathan knocked out? Jon feels like he missed all of the action after Dami’s mom hit him on the head. Oh well, while he’s here he should do something. Goliath flies next to his master while Jon uses both of his hands to feel the wire. It was extremely thick and heavy as it was forcing Damian down. Jon shrugs then snaps it with his thumb and ring finger while holding it in place with his other hand.

Goliath flies down onto the rocky land next to the pit where the other two children are there waiting for him. Colin shrinks down to his normal size and wobbles towards him a bit disoriented from his transformation. Nobody meanwhile waves at Jon before running up a flight of stairs to a door-

“THERE WAS A DOOR!?” Jon shouts as he hops off Goliath in the girl’s direction. She smugly smiles at him and continues to run away as Jonathan shouts after her. “Hey, wait! Where are you going?”

“I’m done with my mission!” She shouts back as she opens the door at the top of the stairs. “It was nice seeing ya, but I’m outta here!”

“But why! Aren’t you coming with us?”

“Aw Hell no! I’m getting out of here before this place blows!” She explains with one last wave. “Pray we don’t see each other again!”

Huh… Well, that was just downright rude.

“Hey, what did she mean when she said that this place was gonna blow?” Colin questions as he unties Damian from his confines. “Also, did you get taller? You look normal again.”

“Thanks?” Jon replies as he thinks about what Nobody said. “I’m not sure but I think that means that this place will probably explode.”

Damian groans as he rubs the back of his neck and wrist where he was tied up while Goliath licks him. “That’s not important.”

“Uh, that is very important,” Colin interjects but is briefly ignored.

The Arabic boy doesn’t bother saying anything to the redhead’s concern as he stands up and tentatively moves to Jonathan’s side. He looks at Jonathan for a moment with a stern glare before wrapping his fingers around his throat with the speed of a viper. Colin instantly runs between them to push them apart causing Damian to stumble back.

“What the heck?!”

“I…” Damian lets out shakily before clearing his throat. “I had to make sure he was real. I needed to hold him to make sure he wasn’t some phantom or a figment of my fragile imagination.”

The taller fifth-grader scoffs and grabs one of Damian’s arms to move it around Jonathan. “There are less violent ways to make sure people are real other than strangling them.”

The boy gets the hint as he holds Jonathan close to himself tightly. An unsure hand tangles itself through Jonathan’s messy black hair to pull him against the front of his shoulder. Jon is about to question the out of character action because Jonathan is a million times sure that his friend hated initiating a hug unless he absolutely has to. Blue eyes notice Colin crossing his arms in a large X so Jon lets the topic go and hugs Dami back.

They’re allowed to stay in their embrace for a few more seconds before the tall redhead clears his airway. “Okay, so apparently that Felicity girl said that this place is going to blow up. I know Jon could survive that but I can’t?”

“Okie!” Jon answers with his mouth pressed on Damian’s shoulder. “Dami, we need to leave. Conner is still fighting ninjas and I have no idea what Tim is doing-”

“I’m going to kill him,” Damian growls as he releases Jonathan and whistles for Goliath. “What the hell was that halfwit thinking bringing you here?”

“I asked.” He replies as the fluffy red beast kneels down and obediently allows others to mount him. “Wow, he’s a lot nicer when near you.”

“My Goliath is the best and has been trained to only be subservient to me.” The boy explains as he climbs on top of the creature. “Come on.” Jonathan and Colin follow his lead and climb aboard the ferocious beast who trembles when Kryptonian seats himself on his back. Emerald green eyes glare back at Jon scrutinizingly at the sound of his companion whimpering at the presence of a small child.

“I don’t think he likes being bopped on da nose.” Jon shrugs with his shoulders high.

Damian rolls his eyes and sighs. “You’re lucky I love you.”

“Ew, gross. Can you guys not do this while I’m sitting next to you?” Colin groans as they begin to take off. 

“You could jump.” The son of Batman comments as he takes off into the air. “Jonathan, be a dear and make an exit large enough for my Goliath.”

Jonathan crawls past his friend and sets his knee on Goliath’s nose to punch an exit into the wall the dragon-bat flew up to while Colin rolls his eyes. “Is that how you thank the guy who stopped your mom from dipping you into pure liquid crazy?”

“I could have gotten out myself and then I shall exact my revenge-”

“Dami say thank you to Colin.” Jon scolds as he punches the wall again to make their exit bigger.

“Jonatha-”

“Dami.”

Damian throws his head back with a groan and a scowl. “Thank you, Colin.”

The second they all escape the confines of the volcano a loud explosion erupts from the behind them immediately causing them to be tossed asunder. The youngest boy, surprised by the impact, lets go of their fluffy chauffeur and is caught by Colin who had to use his powers to grow his arm to reach the seven-year-old in time. Damian meanwhile was doing his best to calm down his steed and loyal companion who became disoriented by the disruptive sound.

The boys spiral out of control and the blast propels them back into the palace where they crash through the wall to officially make five separate holes right next to each other. The group lands at Conner’s feet which just so happens to be casually resting atop a pile of bodies. He appeared rather bored as he rested his chin on the palm of his hands while his elbows relaxed on his knees. Although the party made quite the commotion bursting through the wall the teen didn’t bother to address them and continued to be lost in thought.

Colin lifted himself off the ground and stared at what he hopes is not a mountain of corpses. “Please tell me those ninjas aren’t dead.”

“Mmm?” The muscular half-Kryptonian hums as he glances down with a somber Luthor-Esque demeanor before seeing Jon and brightening up immensely. “Jon!” He merrily skips down from his self-made platform and envelops his baby brother in a passionate bear hug. “Awww, my cool little bro did it! This must be that friend I keep hearing so much about!”

“Conner, you met him before!” Jon chokes out as he’s being squeezed to death with love.

“That doesn’t matter!” He coos, rubbing his face against Jonathan’s cheek. “I’m so glad you’re here! I ran out of ninjas to fight and I was getting bored! I can’t stand not doing anything!”

“Don’t you spend most of your time in bed?”

“That’s different.”

A pained grunt alerts them to Damian who had his entire body wrapped around the head of his pet dragon-bat as he gets to his feet. “Argh… Can you simpletons please not refer to these trained assassins as ninjas?”

“I just tell it like it is,” Colin states, still pointing at the pile. “And are they dead or not because if they are I need to reevaluate my entire life choices.”

“Don’t worry about it, Abuse; I ain’t no killer.” He points out as he holds Jonathan at his hip like a duffle bag. “I made sure they didn’t retain any life-changing injuries. It wouldn’t be very heroic if I went around playing executioner.”

“Some people are better off dead.” Damian hisses, glaring in Jon’s direction. “Isn’t that right, Jon?”

Confused, Jonathan tilts his head at his friend wondering why in the heck he would agree to something like that. “Dami, I don’t think killing people is a good thing.”

“Then why did you hire Deathstroke?” He scoffs before slapping his forehead. “You know what, you probably did it by complete accident knowing your luck.”

“Ah shit, do I need to give Jon several million?” Conner complains as he calculates pricing in his head. “Please tell me it wasn’t against someone high-profile cause even I don’t have that kind of money.”

“You know of him?” Damian asks, surprised by the moronic looking teen’s quick acceptance that not only did his innocent little brother hire a hitman but that he was willing to fund such endeavors.

“Dude, my dad is Lex Luthor.” He says as if it would explain everything. “A good chunk of the villain community is on my Dad’s contact list. Let’s just say I’ve walked into some weird video conferences in my life.”

“Make sense.” The ten-year-old nods.

“Okay, I’m glad no one got murdered but I still have to reevaluate my entire life.” Colin sighs knowing that no one will listen or care.

“What do we do now?” Jon asks everyone thoughtfully. “We have Dami so now we go home, right?”

Conner notices that all of the children are looking at him and realizes that he’s the adult in this situation. This is a responsibility he was not expecting or ready for in any way shape or form. He’s willing to step up to the occasion and lead these kids to a safe escape in the absence of their leader, Robin.

“Well,” He begins with a cough and a stoic look. “Is Tim still at the cool skull with the Titans?”

“Yeah, do you want us to go there?” The youngest Kent sibling asks, staring at his brother from under his arm.

“Yes, wait, I mean no!” The teen corrects himself hurriedly. “Um, Tim said he was going to give me a signal when we should meet up with him.”

Damian scoffs and crosses his arms judgmentally. “And this signal would be?”

Suddenly, from outside above the skull a bright red flare is shot off and sparks out into a familiar R symbol. The boys stare at it for a moment before they are easily lifted off the ground by Conner, including Goliath. “If my pattern recognition means anything that is it!” He proclaims as he jogs off with all of them in tow.

During the trip, Jonathan looks up at Damian, who is seated on Conner’s shoulders, to inquire about the events when he was knocked out. “Hey Dami, how come you weren’t with me after I got knocked out?”

“What?” He says wide-eyed.

“Bro, you said that Jon died but he’s right here and I’m pretty sure pushing up daisies isn’t a superpower,” Colin adds from under Conner’s other arm.

“Wait, Jon died?” The older half-Kryptonian questions aloud looking at his very alive brother.

“There’s a chance I was mistaken,” Damian admits in a way that makes it obvious he doesn’t believe so. “But to answer your question my mother managed to capture me and decided to envelop my body in the purest of Lazarus waters to speed the process.”

“That’s when Nobody and I came across him.” The tall redhead adds helpfully. “She ran away with some creepy old guy with really ugly sideburns-”

“My grandfather.”

Colin shivers at that information and stares at the other fifth-grader. “You better hope you inherit your dad’s genes.”

“Both of us will be hoping for such.”

They arrive at the now-abandoned lava skull where all of the Titans are now freed and boarding a bright orange plane. Nightwing, now wearing a blue domino mask to conceal his face, is holding Tim with his arms behind his back. The older man waves at them and looks at Colin for about two seconds before exploding at his bound brother.

“YOU TOOK A CIVILIAN WITH YOU!?”

“In his defense I asked,” Colin states blankly, completely done with this entire adventure.

“No, it’s okay. I’m already planning on taking all of the blame for this.” Robin tells them with a grin. “Oh, Jon’s normal again.”

Jon nods as he sets his feet on the ground while Conner runs inside to excitedly meet all the Titans forgetting that he was holding other children much to Damian’s protests. “Unhand me you buffoon!”

Looking at Dick menacingly, Jon pokes him in the arm with a bit too much force as the adult winces from the contact. “Um… Sorry we have to meet like this, but you shouldn’t have come here. I don’t know what Robin has been teaching you but this is not acceptable behavior. You could have gotten seriously hurt! When we get home we are going to have a long talk with your parents.”

“I know.” He huffs before stomping on the man’s foot aggressively. “That’s for using my nickname and hugging him! Only I can do that!”

“OW!” The hero cries, letting go of Robin to hold his injured foot. “That is a very rude thing you did! That is not okay and I know you talked about this with your therapist!”

“She said I shouldn’t do it if I know I’m going to feel bad and regret it later!” He reveals boldly with his hands on his hips. “And I won’t. Dami might be your brother but he’s _mine_.”

“Man I’m tired. I’m gonna take a nap in the ship before B locks me in my room for the next century.” Tim declares as he stretches his arms and releases a lengthy yawn. “I say this mission was a complete success. Everything ended exactly as expected and we didn’t even have to use the nuclear option or delve into complete chaos.”

“Your definition of success is warped.” Dick groans as he hobbles up to them. “Also, Jon, I don’t think it’s healthy for you to be saying those things about Damian. He’s not yours just like how you aren’t his.”

Naively the child tilts his head at the older man. “Why not? I do belong to Damian!”

He can see sapphire blue eyes widen from under the mask as he tries to maintain his composure. “Jon, no. You don’t. That’s not how friends treat each other. You can both be each other’s friends but belonging to someone means to be property and you are a human being; not an object.”

“But I’m not a human.”

Dick glances at Tim who raises his arms up in defense. “I didn’t tell him that.”

“Jon… You are a human even if you aren’t by DNA. You’re a person with humanity and not something that can be owned. Do you understand?” He says slowly in hopes that the young child will understand.

“But I’m not saying I own him. I’m just saying we belong to each other and will be together forever!” Jon describes with a crooked smile. “Wherever Dami goes I’ll follow him so we can be together forever and he’ll never leave me again!”

Dick frowns at the words and sighs as he stares at Tim. “We’re going to have to fix that.”

Fix? What is there to fix? Jonathan thinks his logic makes perfect sense so why does he need to be fixed. “But I’m not broken.”

“No! Nonononononono!” Nightwing quickly responds kneeling to Jonathan’s height. “I didn’t mean to say it like that. You’re not broken! I used bad wording, I’m so sorry.”

“Then why did you say it?”

“Way to go Nightwing.” Tim drones from next to Jon just as Wally peaks his head out from the side of the plane’s entrance.

“Hey, are you guys coming in or not! There’s a really loud kid trying to hit on Raven and she is this close to punching him!” The speedster demonstrates his teammate’s patience by pinching his fingers together.

“Your fingers are touching!” Robin points out.

“I know. She already punched him.”

“In a minute, we’re almost done talking!” Dick calls out with a thumbs up then faces Superman’s youngest child. “I just mean that… Uh… The way you’re thinking about Damian is… not great. It’s wonderful you want to be with him, absolutely adorable, but the way you say he’s never going to leave you again is not good. One day in the future Damian might want to do things without you or go places you can’t follow. If you keep this way of thinking then you’ll put yourself in danger like you did today. What you did cause a lot of commotion and your family is really worried about you.”

He puts a hand on his shoulder to comfort and ground Jon but the sentiment that Damian is going to go somewhere he can’t follow is repeated over and over in his mind. That doesn’t make any sense. Jonathan is going to follow Damian wherever he goes because if Jonathan leaves him again he might disappear forever this time. What’s the point of having his powers locked in on his best friend if he can’t use them to follow him everywhere. Jonathan can do a lot more now that he gained super strength and if he ever achieves flying the sky is the limit.

“That’s not going to happen. I’ll just follow him.”

“Jon, please,” Dick begs but he doesn’t exactly know what he’s begging for. “Just because you can follow him everywhere Damian doesn’t he wants you too. He might want to keep his distance for a bit.”

Keep his distance?

Keep distance…

“Keep your distance, Chickadee.” Robin orders as he rips another kryptonite knife out of his shoulder blade. They’ve been researching this undersea vessel for days and now that they’ve finally made it things have gone to Hell in a handbasket. They were attacked so fast and now the entire place is rapidly being submerged in water.

Jonathan reaches out to his best friend desperately from the escape pod but his hand is swatted away. “Robin, we can both fit in here! Stop being stubborn!”

“Jonathan,” The young teenage vigilante says, trying to sound brave but a sob escapes him. “I’ll be fine. I’ll be right behind you, but we both can’t fit! You’re the most susceptible to kryptonite out of all your family and if any of the kryptonite on me even touches you, you’ll die!”

“What ‘bout you!” Jon cries as he grabs Damian’s arm and is cruelly swatted away. This can’t be happening to them. This can’t be happening to Jonathan. He’s never even told Damian he cared about him; that he loved him. “I’m not going! You can’t make me! I’m staying with you even if it kills me!”

“I’m not going to die here!” The thirteen-year-old screams as he steps back and closes the door to the escape pod. “I’ll be right here but for now you have to keep your distance.”

“No!” He cries as he pounds on the hatch trying to break it down but he’s not fast enough as the distance between them grows larger. “Dami! Dami, please! You’re going to drown!”

However, his pleading doesn’t work as the devices shoot him out of the bay and onto the docks of Gotham City.

“Dick you idiot!” Tim shouts as he pushes his older brother away from the seven-year-old. “Jon, Jon, snap out of it! This can’t be happening, not now! It’s too early for this to kick in.”

“H-huh?” The boy says but his voice doesn’t sound… right? He sounds like television static. “Tim, what- I had another blackout and Dami-”

“Shh, I know, I know.” He coos softly stroking his fingers through his hair and resting on the nape of his neck.

Jonathan subconsciously grabs the arm with his left hand but sees something shocking. The veins on his arm were glowing a radiant goldish-white and trailing up his body. “R-Robin?”

“Jon, it’s going to be fine! You’re going to be fine!” He reassures in a way Jonathan understands that means the exact opposite. “This isn’t, why now…”

“Robin, what’s happening to him!?” Dick shouts loud enough to catch the attention of everyone on the ship.

They all scattered out of the vehicle and gasped at the sight of little Jonathan Samuel Kent with half his body glowing radiant colors. Tim meanwhile is panicking but knows he has to steel himself and handle the situation as the only one with any idea of what’s going on. Without hesitation, he reaches Jonathan’s belt loop for his signal button and rips it off with his thumb pressing the button.

A loud alarm rings out around them but it’s nothing compared to the strength of the frequency only Kryptonians can hear as demonstrated by Conner who immediately crumbles to the ground clutching his ears. “FUCK! MAKE IT STOP, MAKE IT STOP!”

“Drake, what did you do to Jonathan!”

The reaction was instantaneous as almost the entire superfamily was at their location mere seconds. Superman goes to scold Tim before he notices the condition of his son causing his priorities to swiftly change. “Robin, what-”

“Where’s Chris!?” Tim demands looking around only seeing Supergirl, Superwoman, Superman, and Krypto among them.

“I’m right here.” The brunette, dressed in a white tank top and black sweatpants, announces from the back of the crowd as he locks a collar around Conner’s neck that seemingly stops the sound damaging his hearing. He strides up to Tim and glowers at him with such open disdain it’s tangible.

The sidekick looks at the other metal collar in the man’s hand and scoffs at it. “I see you haven’t learned anything.”

“And by the looks of it neither did you.” He quips back and goes to put it on Jon before noticing his glowing veins. “Oh no, not now-”

“Yeah, I know.”

“What triggered it?”

“I’m sorry but CAN SOMEONE EXPLAIN WHAT’S HAPPENING TO MY BABY COUSIN!” The blond woman demands angrily.

Jonathan hugs himself with a sick feeling. “Everything hurts… It’s like I suddenly weigh a billion pounds.” Jon describes as he falls to his knees.

Tim sighs as he looks at the light traveling through his veins and looks to the concerned family. “This is what happens when Jonathan is emotionally distressed. He’s an extremely empathic person meaning he feels things on a scale he can’t handle.”

“And when everything becomes too much of a strain mentally it starts to become too much for him physically.” Chris finishes disappointedly. “I was trying to avoid something like this! This is why you shouldn’t have dragged Jon into your impulsive crap!”

“Hey, this wasn’t because of the mission! This is a completely separate matter!” The teenager shouts standing up. “Don’t put all this on me! I might be a fucking wreck but I didn’t do this!”

Dick stares at Jonathan who has begun shaking on the ground with worry. “Th- I just… What’s going to happen?”

The two in the know look at Dick before looking down at Jon. Chris picks up the child and holds him to his chest where the glowing veins begin to seer through the cotton of his shirt. He winces at the feeling but isn’t in any actual pain as he looks up. “He’s going supernova. If he blows up anywhere near earth his outburst will level not only this island but sections of any nearby countries as well as eliminate all electronic communication in the adjacent areas.”

Superman stumbles forward and tries to hold his son in his arms but is rejected by Chris. “Jonathan, my Jonathan, is capable of doing that?”

“But… how?” Superwoman asks as she grips the young brunette’s shoulder tightly. “Not even a full-blooded Kryptonian is able to do that.”

“Jon is a naturally made hybrid. He’s capable of so much, too much, and it needs to be stopped.” Chris decides as he floats above the ground. “I need to take him into space so he can safely-”

“Christopher,” Clark commands forcefully, holding his adopted child still. “I’ll do it. I know you probably know more about this than I do and I know he’s your brother, but he’s my son. I’ll take him to safety.”

Jon reaches his arms out to his father as he’s willingly placed into his arms. “Dad?”

“It’s okay Jon. Daddy will take care of everything from here.” He reassures as he rocks Jonathan in his arms and flies up into the sky. “You’re going to be fine. You’ll probably feel something for a bit but afterward, it’ll be okay.” There was no way for Clark Kent to know what he was saying was true but he’ll do whatever it takes to ensure that his little boy was going to make it through whatever was happening to him.

The child nods, completely believing his dad because even though things have been weird he knows his father would never hurt him. “Like when I feel better after throwing up?”

“Yeah, just like that, Sport.”

And then they were in space.

Jonathan remembered his father once telling him that he couldn’t breathe in space, but in the great empty void, he found that he didn’t need to breathe. Reluctantly he feels his father release him and the feeling of weightlessness circles him. He only has a brief moment of excitement burst through his soul before it happens.

He explodes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ha! You thought I was actually going to de-age Jon for the rest of this fic! You probably thought Jonathan's eating habit was just some weird quirk I added for no reason!
> 
> Jokes aside this probably didn't end how anyone expected it to. My writing goes on the principle that the world keeps revolving even if a character is incompasitated. So if something is going to happen there's a good chance a character will miss it if they're not in the right place at the right time. Annyoing I know but I'm weird like that.
> 
> Some of you were probably expecting a complete shitshow but this was not one of those times, at least I don't think so. But they did blow up half of Infinity Island sooooooo take it as you will. With that said arc 3 has officially ended and we will now enter the next one that will focus on the reporcutions of Jonathan's adventures. Spoilers: None of them are good. It's also pbvoous that I drew the art for this chapter at two completely different times (Months apart).
> 
> Maya will be back.
> 
> Next Chapter: Christopher Kent only wants what's best and Conner Alexander Luthor is not to be messed with.


	34. Rebellion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Everyone has a lot of explaining to do and punishments are given out. Little does everyone know even consequences have consequences. A brighter future is looking like something more impossible by the second.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I didn't set out to write the longest fic of the Super-Sons fandom but by golly gee you guys that is exactly what I have done. Over 300K words and it'll only keep growing as the new arc begins with... well not a bang but it's something.
> 
> I want to thank y'all as always but I feel I'll never be able to thank my readers enough!🎆🎆🎉

Jonathan Samuel Kent woke up seeing red.

For a second the boy believed he accidentally awoken with his heat vision activated. He rubs his eyes to turn them off but finds that the action did nothing to alleviate the brutal scarlet enveloping his vision. Alarmed by the lack of change Jonathan wobbles to his feet before realizing that he can barely hold the weight of his body. He thought he weighed a ton before, but the feeling is almost multiplied right now. He blinks several times to help clear up his blurry vision with some success this time to find that he was trapped in a large circular glass cage suspended in the air with no possible door to the outside world.

Not the worst thing he’s woken up to, but it’s far from ideal. Below him, in the glass sphere, he sees a seemingly endless drop, and around him are metal panels. Above him was a large red lamp that Jonathan concludes is the source of the red around him. He’s confused as to why he’s in this weird ball and does his best to remember the events leading up to this point.

He got Dami to come back home, they were about to board the Titan’s ship, Dick was talking nonsense to him, and then… Oh… OH. Jonathan literally blew up in space which would have been fun if it didn’t make him feel sick. After that event, everything is nonexistent as if that chunk of time between then and now doesn’t exist. The second-grader is getting some serious deja-vu from when he first woke up after what he dubs: The Hamilton Incident.

Heavy azure eyes glance down at his attire to find himself wearing the clothing he last remembered wearing. That doesn’t make too much sense to Jonathan because if he blew up then why are his clothes intact? He doesn’t have long to dwell on the matter as his chamber begins to lower with a disorienting jolt that causes him to fall and hit his head, hurting him immensely.

Jon’s eyes widen when the realization hits him; it hurts. While rubbing his head he unconsciously takes off his other shoe because it feels abnormal to be only wearing one shoe. The seven-year-old contemplates the oddity that is his pain as he hasn’t felt it in so long. Sure he’s gotten hurt before but when he feels pain it’s usually because he suffered a horrible injury. The sharp but light pain from a thump on the head is now foreign to him in a way he almost didn’t register it.

He looks up to see the strong light following the cell downward seemingly without anything moving it. The half-Kryptonian begins to crawl up the transparent surface of the sphere up when he makes it halfway up he slides down back to the bottom. The entire structure rotates along with Jonathan like a hamster wheel. There was no way out and no way inside the structure either so how did he get here? Where was he?

After a few minutes, the floor is finally in sight and the circular door rotates with the sound of heavy hydraulics hissing along with a loud siren going off rhythmically warning everyone of its opening. He sits with his legs crossed and his left shoe in his lap as he’s lower down into an empty hallway that resembles the tunnel he recently departed. The second the red light passes through the opening the sphere launches forward like a pinball causing Jonathan to brace himself as he’s propelled forward. 

He passes several clear doors of dark and empty rooms with numbers on them before reaching the end of the hallway where two enormous steel doors slide open with a hiss. The room was dark and Jonathan tried to use his hearing to listen for anyone but found that he was practically deaf to the outside world.

He couldn’t hear Damian’s heartbeat.

In a panic, he bangs on the glass of his container with his shoe while screaming in a berserk manner. “AAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHH! LET ME OUT! WHO PUT ME IN HERE!? LET ME OUT! LET ME OUT!”

The blackness in the room dissipates as a row of blinding flood lights illuminates in a crescent pattern to reveal a long curved table revealing members of the Justice League behind it in tall chairs. At opposite ends of the table sat his father and Mr. Wayne in full costume staring at Jonathan. His dad has to be forced back into his seat by Wonder Woman and Shazam as he immediately tries to rush to Jonathan’s side. Jonathan recognizes each and every person at the table as he has all of their autographs or personally talked to them before.

“Dad?” Jon whimpers, pressing his hands against the glass towards Superman.

The man’s face crumbles and he looks to the people holding him back pleading at them to let him close to his son. In the center of the panel Green Lantern, the one with walnut brown hair and the first autograph in Jon’s book, nods but reminds Clark, “Remember, you can’t talk direct him to say anything and must remove yourself when prompted.”

“Hal-”

“Sorry Supes, I really am, but Batman has been instructed to do the same. We have to be fair.”

“He’s just a child-”

“So is Tim. That doesn’t change anything.” He sternly says as Superman is released.

His father runs up to Jon, stumbling when he enters the red light of the lamp, and presses his hands where Jonathan’s significantly smaller ones were situated. Jon’s never noticed it before but his father’s hands were huge compared to his own. That or Jonathan’s hands were just tiny. He looks at his father desperately and asks, “Dad, what’s going on? Why am I in this thing?”

“Jon it’s going to be okay the… these are good people and they just want to ask you some questions. This ball is to make sure you stay safe.” Clark explains to his child and clenches his fingers together as if trying to entwine his hands with his sons through the barrier.

“Where am I?”

“This… This is the Watchtower. You probably don’t remember but you’ve been here before-”

“This is where you took me to take the poison out of me, right?” Jon remarks, remembering when Damian told him the first day of school.

Muttering erupts from behind them which is quickly hushed as Superman nods his head. “Yes, this is where it happened. Do you remember?”

Jon shakes his head. “No, Dami told me.”

Everyone looks at Batman who does not flinch under the scrutinizing stares of his teammates. Green Lantern coughs and everyone organizes their papers with a few of them writing down notes on their stack. The hero stands and another man, one who is completely green wearing a black skin-tight suit with a red X over his chest, walks up to Superman to put a hand on his shoulder. 

Superman opens his mouth in protest but closes it before turning to his son. “Jon, Sport, this will only take a short bit and then we can go home. Don’t be scared, we only want to help.”

A loud but muted scoff enters their ears and another floodlight is turned on to reveal Tim in his own sphere, minus the red lamp, casually sitting on the ground with his arms and legs crossed. He’s playfully bouncing the higher leg in the air and stares at the panel sarcastically. “That's why you turned all the main light off, to help us and not as an intimidation tactic.”

“Tim,” Batman commands, causing the boy to immediately quieten himself and stares forward with a sober expression.

Superman stands and begins walking back to his seat, but not without one last sentiment that everything will be fine. Jon wants to believe him, he really does, but everything is confusing him and his body still feels like a lead weight. None of those things make Jon have any faith in a good outcome.

The green man walks up to Jonathan and asks, “Do you know who I am?”

He nods and replies, “You’re Martian Manhunter. My mom bought the Justice League Lego Set last Christmas and you were in it! You piloted my Javelin! I don’t know where it went though but it’s probably in a storage bin in Metropolis somewhere. My parents say they didn’t have enough room in the apartment to keep everything when we moved.”

The martian smiles at his answers and resists the urge to pat the bubbly child on the head. “That is correct. I am here to read your mind and make sure that you’re going to be truthful with us. You’ll be an honest boy with us, correct?” Jon’s eyes shift to where Tim is but a green hand intercepts his line of sight. “Jon, I want your answer.”

“Okay, I’ll be honest!” Jon replies readily as he sits back down with his shoe on his lap. “Can I ask a question?”

“Yes.” Martian Manhunter replies carefully.

“What’s this funny light? I’ve never seen a red light before unless it was Christmas or if it was to keep food warm but I don’t feel really hot and I know that it’s not a Christmas light.” He asks pointing a finger up to the large flat light.

“That is a red sun lamp made to nullify the effects of your Kryptonian powers. You were absorbing yellow sun energy at an alarming rate, so we had to take measures to stop the process.” The man explains as he takes a step back until he is equal distance between Timothy and Jonathan. “We’re making sure that your powers don’t go out of control.”

The boy tilts his head before understanding what he was talking about. “Oh, this is because I blew up.” Martian Manhunter doesn’t say anything vocally but his silence is enough of an answer for Jonathan to get the hint. He slouches back down and looks around the mostly dark room aside from the flights illuminating the people below. “It’s really dark in here. For a cool space base, I thought it would have more windows!”

“We closed them in this room so you wouldn’t absorb any residual light from them,” Batman explains, boring his eyes into Jonathan from behind his mask. “Now, are we going to start this meeting or are we going to sit here and watch our children be confined.”

Wonder Woman nods and stands up as Green Lantern sits back down. “Now, it has come to our attention that both of you have knowledge that could potentially predict future events and the key to inter-dimensional travel. Is this correct?”

Tim doesn’t answer but Martian Manhunter replies, “This is correct.”

The teenager’s eyes narrow and sighs. “I see you’re not even gonna give me the right to remain silent.”

“Tim, this isn’t a court of law.” Batman sighs pinching the bridge of his nose.

“Then what’s the point of having us here when you could just read our minds?”

“TIM.” His adoptive father chastises. “We’re giving you a chance to answer in your own words but if you’re not going to do that then you leave us no choice.”

“Didn’t Chris tell you everything he knew? You already have that so there’s no need to get our side of the story.” Tim complains slouching further into his seat.

“From his testimony, we are now aware of some gaps in his timeline and knowledge that could only be filled in by the only other parties we are aware of involved.” Hawkgirl describes slapping her stack of paper with the back of her hands. “Don’t get us wrong; we’d rather that you two not be put in this situation at all but recent events have forced our hand. Whatever this is has caused you two to act irrationally and morphed your behavior into something we’re told is highly abnormal. I know how it looks, but we only want to help you. That involves your cooperation and telling us everything.”

Tim simply glares at the woman in response causing her to sigh and turn to the man next to her. Batman simply grunts in response, not willing to look his friend in the eye. Jonathan meanwhile has begun to roll around in the ball due to being restless.

“I’m a hamster!” He declares as he continues to roll around like a tumbleweed.

“Yes, yes you are.” Superman chuckles at his son’s silly antics in a serious situation.

The Flash, this one with a full-body red suit, stands up with a kind wave and Jon waves back politely. “Hi, so I’m going to just jump straight to the point, are alternate realities real?”

“Yes.” The young boy answers with no hesitation.

The young teen next to him sighs and nods along. “It was actually you who discovered them. Apparently, if you run fast enough you can cross the barrier between space-time and end up in a world that is adjacent to ours or even farther.”

The red hero’s jaw drops and slowly sits down holding his arm still. He turns his head around to his compatriots who are all looking at him expectantly. “Hey, don’t look at me! If I knew I would have said so earlier!”

Wonder Woman stands up once again with her stack of papers to flip through them for a moment before pausing. “Jonathan, how are you?”

Jon tilts his head that the amazon and stops rolling in place to address her. “My body feels kinda funny and heavy and I’m really confused. I was scared at first because I didn’t know where I was and couldn’t use my powers to hear Dami, but now I’m okay. This ball is pretty fun! It's like at the fair when they have those giant inflatable beach balls you can walk around in and crash into other people but they aren’t bumper cars. I was always really bad at bumper cars but bumper cars are easier to drive than real cars. When I drove a real car it had three petals and I couldn’t read the stick so I ended up crashing into the water, but I’m okay now.”

She… She has no idea how to properly respond to that and simply clears her throat to push on through. “I see… Has your friend Dami been a constant factor in your… Visions?”

The boy shrugs as he rolls around some more until he’s sitting up. “Not really? I dunno? My visions feel random and don’t make sense. Sometimes I see Dami and sometimes I don’t.”

“Do you think your visions have any impact on how you see your friend?”

Jon thinks for a moment before shrugging once again. “I don’t think so. I mean I thought he was a vegan once but I don’t see him any different than when I first met him.”

And how do you see him?” She asks, writing something down.

“He’s a butt.”

Green Lantern, who was drinking a glass of water, did an honest to God spit-take as Shazam began laughing back in his chair and pointing at Batman. Wonder Woman, a bit red in the cheeks and hiding a smile, coughs loudly to control the situation. “Ahem!” The situation does not change and she resigns herself as she continues talking to Jon. “I see, well someone needs to work on that.”

“Diana.” Batman chastises.

“I’m just saying, Bruce.”

“So are we going to stick to your superhero names or not cause everybody has been kinda whisky-washy on it,” Shazam asks once he gets over his humor.

“It doesn’t matter, I already know who you all are.” Tim groans, throwing his head back tiredly against the glass.

“Anyways,” Diana says forcefully to gain back control of the room. “Jonathan-”

“You can call me Jon!”

“Jon,” She corrects. “Has your visions in any way shape or form affected your interaction with the people around them; have you treated anyone differently because of them?”

“I dunno,” Jon replies as he thinks about the question. “I see my brothers in them but I don’t think of them as the same people as they are in my visions. They act kinda da’ same bu’ they’re not the people I know. Like… Oh, I know! Like on TV you see an actor and in real life, they aren’t the same person!” He crosses his arms before adding, “But I still feel like it was real. So I guess it’s like…”

“A distant memory.” Tim finishes uncrossing his arms and looking at Jon.

“Yeah!” Jon nods pointing at the teen. “Like that! That’s exactly how it feels! I even remember things that other me probably knew! I mean I can’t think of any right now but if you ask me I might know.”

“Alright, mind if we test that out then?” Hawkgirl asks as the entire table flips through their notes. “How about you tell us everything about your visions.”

“Like a story??”

“Exactly. Just tell us a story like you’re sharing an exciting dream with your friends” The woman nods encouragingly while looking at her teammates who all stand up except for Batman and Superman. “Tim, would you like to join us for this exercise?”

He sighs and sits up with his knees against his chest. “I might as well. It would probably be easier to just extract our memories and get this over with.”

“I’m not going to do that. The possibility it could destroy your mind if I were to try forcing memories out of your brain is substantial.” Martian Manhunter explains stoically.

“Tim, don’t think about this so pessimistically. This is an opportunity to get everything out in the open so that there won’t be any misunderstandings between anyone.” Superman tries to inspire but his attitude wasn’t as contagious as he hoped.

“Can I have some paper and a pencil? I wanna draw along because I like picture books and there was a thing from one of my visions I wanted to draw!” Jon asks with his hands raised eagerly.

Hawkgirl nods and pushes some blank sheets of papers and a freshly sharpened pencil on the table. The Martian walks up to take them then moves up to Jon’s sphere where he phases the objects through the glass. The child reaches for them and once they are in his hands he begins sketching.

“Who wants to start?” Wonder Woman inquiries looking between Jonathan and Tim.

The older boy groans and runs his bare hand through his slightly oily messy hair. “I’ll start.”

“Perfect. And Jon, if you want to interject or add anything during this you are more than welcome too.” The amazon instructs before gesturing at Tim to speak.

“I don’t know exactly when alternate realities were discovered because we grew up in a world where that was public knowledge. When I was young, before I became Robin, I knew full well that other dimensions and realities existed. It seemed like almost every year the universe was pulled into one crisis after another without any breaks. I’m honestly surprised I didn’t end up dead at least once! Like, we’re not even the universe that has to deal with most of the universe bullcrap but we all get screwed over the same. Statistically speaking invaders from alternate realities kill more heroes than anything else.”

“When you say that invaders from other worlds kill more heroes-” Green Lantern begins but is cut off by Tim’s ranting.

“Like, I always thought that the Joker would kill Batman eventually but no, it was another Superman. Then another Batman goes and kills Superman not even a full year later so I say that everyone is pretty screwed up. That’s not even mentioning how many Darksides there are who clearly have a fetish for the anti-life equation. I don’t know what that guy’s problem is but he has a major hard-on for depression.”

“Tim, language.” Batman signs pinching the bridge of his nose.

“I’m right and you know it!”

“Tim.”

“Right, right.” He says as he gets back on track. “Okay, so people die, yadda yadda, yadda, Nightwing becomes Batman, Damian becomes Robin, I stop being Robin because Dick is a dick-”

“Tim.”

“And I become Red Robin. I know it’s not creative but I had, like, a day to think of a new name. You all know Chris became Superman because he told you. That bitch-”

“TIM.”

“Sucks at family life balance and could not handle the stress or the financial responsibility of taking care of a kid so because the Waynes are loaded we somehow end up taking care of him. Jon was wasting away his potential to do anything because for some reason no one was willing to train him, so I did cause all of you were cowards!”

“I’m sorry, how old was he?” Superman questions, extremely concerned.

“Eight, but Dick was nine when he became Robin so it’s fine. We were being attacked on all fronts at all times and we needed more people to help.” Tim elaborates acting as if what he was saying wasn’t completely insane. “Speaking of Dick, he died trying to nuke an interdimensional portal because people wouldn’t freaking quit invading our world. We are far from the most interesting or important universe so it seemed like there was no reason to keep attacking us! He didn’t get to nuke it but Jon sure did by blowing the fuck up-”

“Tim, what did I just say about your language?” His father laments covering his eyes.

“Let me rant, I’ve been holding this in for so long and there is no reason for me to keep quiet now!”

“Do you have notes we can read instead?”

“Of course I do, you didn’t teach me not to keep notes!” He shouts, throwing his hands up. “But you want me to talk and I’m going to freaking talk! Years pass, more people die and then I’m Batman wondering how the heck that happened! Do you know how not ready I am to be Batman? I’ve outlived three Batmen and I’m still confused by that because how! Just HOW?! And then we found out that our universe had an overabundance of Element X which is why all the evil guys decided our world was free territory to invade and mine us for the stuff. So we got rid of that and… That’s it. The last thing I recall from that Tim’s life is that there was a plan to get rid of Element X and close off the universe.”

“Oh, I think we already did that.” Jon pipes up as he continues drawing. So far he has a picture of Superman and a doodle of Krypto. “The Miracle Machine and the Metron Chair.”

“Mobius Chair.” Tim corrects as he recalls the real name of the device. “Things that, according to the Justice League databases, don’t exist.”

“Which means that we either are getting visions of another world, a past timeline, someone altered our reality, or someone is putting thoughts into our head.” The seven-year-old relays aloud as he remembers what Tim told him when he took him to the Young Justice HeadQuarters. 

“Right. If none of those things exist then the fact that we even have these visions is concerning in it of itself.” The teen ponders holding his chin thoughtfully. “I doubt it’s just someone putting thoughts into our head because the visions were able to predict events with uncanny clairvoyance.”

“Also my powers in that world and this one doesn’t match up.” Jon points out. “In the visions, people keep telling me that my super healing is bad but I can rip off and reattach my arm in… I dunno, an hour.”

“I’m sorry, what?” Superman interjects standing up. “Jon, what did you just say?”

“When I was locked up by that mean lady I decided to break out by eating through my arm,” Jon says as though what he did was logical. “It hurt a lot but they were going to do bad things to Dami if I didn’t save him! I knew I would be okay because my legs heal fast which means so would my arm.”

The Kryptonian shakes in his seat as the others around him look at Jonathan wide-eyed. Martian Manhunter stares at the little boy carelessly drawing away before his own eyes widen. “Jon, do you not see a problem with that?”

“Not really,” Jon replies as he continues sketching. “I’d do anything to help my friends and family. If mom or dad or Kara were captured too I would do the same. That’s what you do for the people you love!”

“Jon, but to do that to yourself-” Clark begins but Jon stops him with a warm grin.

“Wouldn’t you do that for me Dad? If I was taken far away by bad people wouldn’t you do anything to save me?”

“Did the Jon in the visions do that?” He asks not willing to give his son an answer that would indulge that kind of behavior. The truth was that Superman would do it in a heartbeat if his family was in grave danger, but that doesn’t mean he wants his little boy to do the same.

“No, but he should have,” Jon answers casually. “If he tried harder than he could have saved Dami from dying.”

“Not only are aspects of the world differently but so are the power sets.” Tim muses, completely ignoring the conversation going on between father and son. “So we can cross out time travel again.”

“Again? You two have talked about this before?” The Flash questions leaning forward.

“Yeah! Tim knocked me out and took me to a dark room where I was tied up!”

“Bruce, you said Tim took him to visit the YJHQ,” Superman says angrily, glaring at the hero at the end of the table. “Not that he kidnapped him!”

“Technically it was a surprise adoption!” Jon corrects as he moves on to a new piece of paper.

“Jon that is not how adoption works-”

“No, that is exactly how adoption works!” Tim shouts defiantly. “You find about four to five maybe seven kids with black hair, blue eyes are recommended but optional, and horrible or absent parents and take them in with your billions of dollars.”

“Tim, that is not what I do.” Batman states monotony and devoid of all emotion.

“I can prove you wrong in under five minutes.” The teen challenges bravely while looking at his father dead in the eye.

“No one is adopting my son, he has parents.” Superman states, putting his foot down on the topic. “Can we please get back on topic?”

“Yes, we shall.” Wonder Woman nods and turns to Jon. “Are there events or details you would like to tell us, Jonathan?”

“One second, I’m almost done.” The child says as he hunches over his papers and hides his work like it was something top secret but he’s not doing a good job. Most of them can see several more pictures of Jonathan’s family members and a corgi; at least they hope it was a corgi because it was poorly drawn. It might have been a rat.

“That’s okay, take your time.”

He hurriedly adds the final touches to his masterpieces and flips them against the glass so that everyone could see them. “This is Krypto! My doggy but he’s not mine. I think he belongs to my dad or maybe he doesn’t belong to anyone because he can do whatever he wants.”

“Ah yes, we are aware of Krypto the super dog. He is a very good boy.” Wonder Woman agrees happily looking to her compatriots who do the same.

“He is the goodest of bois.” He puts the paper down and flips it to the other side to reveal a picture of his mother and father. “And this is my mom and Dad! Dad wears these bulky glasses and mom has short hair! Dad gave me a pair of glasses to help me feel brave but Dami thinks they look good on me so that's why I wear them.”

“Nerd.” Shazam coughs in Superman’s direction and the adult rolls his eyes at him fondly.

“Jon, that should not be the reason you put on anything.” His father tells him.

Jon doesn’t pay much attention to it as he drops the paper and puts another one up. “This is my auntie Lucy and my aunt Lana! We don’t talk to auntie Lucy too much because mom says that she a selfish witch-”

“Sport, let’s keep that in the family, okay?” Superman interrupts holding his hand out pleadingly.

The Flash chuckles at the reaction and jokingly says, “Hey, no instructing his speech. Maybe what he has to say about your sister in law is important.”

“It’s not.”

Jon flips the paper to show what might either be supergirl or a t-rex next to the maybe-a-corgi. “This is my cousin Kara. I gave her super long hair because she has super long hair! See!”

Hawkgirl squints at it from her seat and tells the boy, “It’s… it’s very unique. What are those spikes growing out of her back?”

He flips the paperback to himself to see what the winged hero was talking about saying, “Those aren’t spikes! Those are her hands because she’s making a peace sign!”

“That makes perfect sense Shiera, don’t you have an eye for art?” Hal Jordan snorts, nudging the woman lightly with his elbow.

“Yeah! And next to it is my therapy corgi! Mrs. Queen has it in her office for me to hug when I feel bad. It’s for big boys like me because only babies play with teddy bears.” Jon explains as he quickly doodles a bear and crosses it out. “Dogs are better than bears anyways.” He drops the paper and pulls out his last sheet to reveal an intricately drawn blueprint of a foreign contraption that is above the engineering capacity of everyone in the room. “This is the Miracle Machine! I don’t know what it does but I had this in my head for a while!”

The room became so silent a pin could have dropped and it would have echoes in the room.

Instantly Green Lantern and Batman were in front of Jonathan’s sphere examining his work while Superman pushed past them to do the same. Timothy kneeled towards Jon with a stunned expression and shouts, “Why would you show them that?!”

“Cause we have to be honest!” Jon replies bluntly not understanding the gravity of the situation.

“This looks like Guardian grade technology.” Green Lantern gasps as he traces some of the crudely charted lines.

The image was far from a comprehensible image but it was detailed enough to understand. Batman leans forward then turns to Martian Manhunter with a nod before ordering Jon to, “Think about this machine for a moment. What else can you tell us?”

“I dunno.” Jon answers, doing his best to remember what it does to no avail. All he has in his head are blueprints he doesn’t recall seeing before. “But Tim might!”

“Thanks for throwing me under the bus.” Tim groans at a distance from his orb. “I appreciate it.”

“You’re welcome!” He replies not understanding the sarcasm behind the words then flips the paper over. “And this is a picture of Dami! I drew him with a sword because that’s his favorite weapon but he usually carries more knives around because they’re easier to hide. He used to want to kill me but now he loves me!”

Indeed, behind the makeshift diagram of one of the most powerful artifacts in the world is a crudely designed doodle of the young assassin with razor-sharp teeth holding swords. “That’s a very nice picture, Jonathan.” Batman compliments genuinely causing the Lantern corp member to stare at him judgmentally.

“Seriously?”

“What, do you think it’s not a good picture of my son?”

“I’ve met your son before and he threatened me at the family picnic.”

“That’s my boy.”

“Bruce, no.” Superman sighs and looks at Tim. “Tim, are you willing to hand us your notes? I don’t want to keep Jon in this thing for longer than necessary.”

“That depends on how long I’m grounded.” The teen dictates stubbornly. “I have a winter formal, three galas, and a Christmas fundraiser I have to attend along with my current caseload.”

“I’m not letting you work on any cases. Until we find a way to control this behavior of yours and stop your visions you are in strict civilian mode.” Batman explains turning to his son. “That means no vigilante work, no working on cases, even cold cases, no masks, no cave, no communication with anyone in Young Justice unless it’s strictly none work-related, and we are cleaning your room of all technology related to your work.”

“You can’t do that! I was working on stuff!”

“You are fifteen and going to be a normal child.”

“I was never a normal child! You can’t do this to me!”

“I can and will! You’ve been ignoring being you and focused solely on being a vigilante ever since I took you in! Your behavior has been growing increasingly more manic over the last few months and I refuse to indulge your behavior any further. You are my son and it’s my responsibility to take care of you which I have been neglecting!” The man hollers walking up to his son’s sphere and looking down at him. “You are going to be a normal kid and work on Tim Drake-Wayne, not Robin! Do you understand me?”

“I guess you aren’t getting those notes then!” Tim screams indignantly as he gracefully stands upon the unstable platform. “Good luck trying to make sense of the code I encrypted!”

“You don’t think I can get to those notes some other way, because I can!”

“I’d like to see you try without Oracle’s help!”

“Don’t you use that tone with me in my house, young man!”

“WE’RE IN FUCKING SPACE!”

“LANGUAGE!”

Jon looks to his father, who was kneeling beside him, and asks, “How grounded am I? Am I grounded from TV?”

The man turns to his son as the argument continues behind them and replies, “You… Well your mom and I talked about it and you’re grounded from television and we are going to schedule more frequent visits to Mrs. Queen.”

He nods and expects more. “And?”

“And we’re going to be moving again-”

“What!? But what about my friends!” Jon screams as he flops to the floor dejectedly. “I just made new friends and I don’t think I can deal with moving again!”

“Jon, Sport, you got it all wrong.” He reassures as he crouches down further. “You don’t have to move schools. We’re just moving to a larger home so that we can fit everyone, won’t that be nice? You’ll have more space for your toys, a small backyard, and Chris won’t have to sleep in the living room. There’s even enough room for Conner to stay over on the weekend.”

“Oh, that’s a good thing!” The boy nods rolling on his back. “Is that it? I feel like there’s more.”

“There will be but I’ll tell you once we’re alone.” He looks back to his friend and his son who were still screaming at each other and have somehow delved into personal jabs and odd threats.

“I’LL SPIKE YOUR COFFEE B! NEXT TIME THERE’S A BREAKOUT AT ARKHAM YOU’LL SLEEP THROUGH IT!”

“I’LL JOIN THE PTA AND RUIN YOUR WINTER FORMAL! DON’T YOU DARE TRY ME BECAUSE I’LL MAKE SURE PEOPLE WILL BE TALKING ABOUT IT FOR DECADES!”

“I’D LIKE TO SEE YOU TRY! YOU WON’T LAST A MINUTE BECAUSE THOSE THIRSTY PTA MOMS WILL BE TOO BUSY TRYING TO SUCK YOUR DILF DICK!”

“WHAT DID YOU CALL ME?!”

“YOU KNOW WHAT I SAID! YOU AIN’T A YOUNG BATCHELOR ANYMORE BRUCIE, YOU’RE IN PRIME DILF AGE NOW AND I’LL MAKE SURE ALL THE SINGLE MOMS IN GOTHAM KNOW HOW AVAILABLE YOU ARE! I’LL CALL VALE AND TELL HER HOW FUCKING LONELY YOU ARE FOR THE HOLIDAYS! I’LL BE FUCKING ADORABLE AND PRETEND I’LL NEED A MOM! WE’LL GET CALLS FOR WEEKS!”

“WHY I OTTA-”

“Oooookay…” Shiera whistles as she moves to hold their tactician back while Martian Manhunter frees Tim from his confines by phasing him out. “Let’s get you two to a more personal room now that we’re done for now… hopefully.”

After they leave back into the darkness the Martian walks up to Jonathan and from the direction Batman, Tim, and Hawkgirl exited Chris jogs up to them wearing a light blue tracksuit holding a metal collar. He cranes his neck back to examine the loud display of the two Waynes for a moment before looking towards Jonathan and his father. Jon is phased out of the glass along with his papers but is still under the strange red light.

Green Lantern picks up Jonathan’s drawings and asks, “You mind if we keep these?”

“Are you going to put them on the fridge?” He asks back.

He looks puzzled by the question but Wonder Woman plucks the images from his hands and examines them with a thoughtful hum. “These are very good. We got a fridge in the breakroom and cafeteria that these would look lovely on.”

“Okay! You can have them then!” He nods and gives the heroes a large heartwarming smile.

“Thank you very much, Jon.” She smiles back and escorts the rest of the Justice League out of the room leaving only the Kryptonians under the red light.

The family stares at one another for a second before Superman exhales a sigh of relief and hugs his son close. He gestures for his eldest to come closer and join them under the red sun lamp which he does and wobbles once he enters the light’s area of effect. “Jonathan, your… your powers are dangerous and I want to help keep you safe. You know that, right?”

“Yeah,” Jon replies slowly unsure of the direction of this conversation.

“And I wouldn’t do anything to you unless I thought it was for your own good, right?”

“Right…”

“Good.” He directs the brunette to sit next to him and holds the ring-shaped accessory in his hand. “This is a power suppressor. It will block all of your powers and keep you safe.”

Sky blue eyes widen and the child begins to vehemently protest. “What?! You can’t do that! These powers are a part of me! You can’t just-”

“Jonathan, these powers aren’t only dangerous to you but to other people, and we are not leaving this lamp until you understand why you have to put this on,” Superman reveals as he inches the device closer to his child. “What happened earlier, you could have hurt a lot of people and I know that you wouldn’t want that to happen, right?”

“I didn’t mean to-”

“I’m not blaming you, Jonathan. You didn’t choose to have these powers or be like this. We have to work with what we have and this is what we have. Imagine if next time you were to go supernova you were at school and hurt all your friends. This is to make sure that won’t happen.”

“But what about my other powers-”

“Jonathan, it’s either you put on this collar or we can’t let you out with the other children. You don’t know how to control your other powers either and having super strength could also hurt people in other ways unintentionally.”

“Isn’t it your job to teach me how to control my powers?! You have them too but you don’t have to wear this thing, Chris doesn’t-”

“I did.” The young man interrupts causing Jonathan to balk at him. “In the visions, I wore a power restricting watch so I could interact with people normally. I was able to gradually learn to control my powers without having to worry about revealing my powers or hurting anyone.”

“What?”

“It’s true. It worked for me and I hope that one day you’ll be able to see that it will help you too.”

Jon stares at the stupid bulky collar for a brief moment. “How come this is a stupid collar? Won’t this look weird?”

“Luthor had to rush the development of this when you and Conner went missing and couldn’t fit it into something smaller,” Chris explains popping open the collar and holding it out. “We’ll have something more discrete made by the time Thanksgiving break is over.”

“Luthor?”

“I know it sounds sketchy but it’s not evil or anything. I gave him the schematics so I know it won’t hurt you like Conner’s kryptonite piercings would. Jon, I need you to trust us.”

“Will it hurt?” He asks, hesitantly baring his neck but seeing no other way out of this situation.

“No, not at all,” Clark reassures as he strokes the boy’s fluffy hair. “Your mother and I wouldn’t have agreed to this if we thought it would hurt you in any way.”

The feeling of cold metal clasps around his throat and for a second Jonathan doesn’t feel any different than he did before. The two men escort the seven-year-old out of the light where Jonathan’s body immediately feels lighter and full of energy. The two orbs and the lamp disappear into the path from which they came as they walk out of the room where there was still yelling going on but this time it wasn’t Mr. Wayne and Timothy.

Upon closer inspection, Jonathan discovered that he recognized those voices as Lex Luthor and Conner. He sees that the three of them were heading to where the fight was coming from and find themselves in a small sitting room, not unlike a doctor’s office. He sees his mother dressed in a nightgown and robe standing behind Conner as he shouts something incomprehensible at his father. The second she lays her lavender eyes on her baby boy she sprints over and hugs him tightly while the arguing goes on behind her.

“Fuck you! You can’t keep me locked away because you’re ashamed of me!” Conner screams with one finger pointed at the bald man and another clutched around the outside of a collar similar to Jonathan’s. “You already locked me away from the other half of my family for five years telling me they wouldn’t accept me but they do! You say that people will try to hurt me because of who I am like I’m something to be hated; like other’s opinions of me and how I’ll be treated wouldn’t reflect on you! Now you’re saying I’m not allowed out of the house and I have to suppress the powers you hate but gave me! I was born like this and this is your fault!”

“Conner Alexander Luthor, I am only doing this to keep you safe! The more you go outside the more you prove that you can’t handle the outside world! First, you accidentally kidnap Superman’s son-”

“I’m his son too!”

“Then you help that wild child blow up a part of STAR labs, and now I hear you went to a cultist island to fight ninjas! Who do you think you are-”

“Oh please, don’t act like you know what’s good for me because if you did you’ll know that I’d rather kill myself than spend another minute in that fucking room knowing it’ll be the only thing I’ll see for the rest of my life!”

“Conner!” Luthor gasps horrified by the words coming out of his child’s mouth. “Conner don’t say things like that!”

“It’s true! I’d rather die free than trapped as another one of your mistakes!”

Superman stands up at that declaration and rushes to Conner’s side while glaring at the bald fine suited villain. “What’s going on here?”

“I’m trying to protect my son, Kent.” The man grumbles as he stares down the slightly shorter teenager. “I’m forbidding him from leaving his room until I deem him mature enough and the world safe enough-”

“Don’t you fucking say it, Dad. Don’t you fucking dare!” He cries, jabbing a finger into his father’s chest, and even without super-strength his act of aggression still hurts. “This isn’t about the safety of the world and we both know it! You hate me! You hate me and that’s why you can’t stand the idea that I might embarrass you, that my existence is a shame to you because you created me!”

“This is merely an act of teenage rebellion,” Luthor states, trying to keep his composure.

All the scarlet red rage to drain from the boy’s tan face before it comes back with a vengeance and the teen nearly jumps his creator if his other father wasn’t between them holding him back. “TEENAGE REBELLION! YOU FUCKING THINK THIS IS TEENAGE REBELLION!? I have some news for you, I’m never going to stop rebelling because you fucking made it so I’ll be a teenager for the rest of my life! Every moment away from you has been the best moment of my life! I’d rather be risking my life outside doing what I want than inside playing another video game you got me because you feel guilty for making me this way! 

“I’m going to be forced to watch the people I love grow old while I stay the same and you won’t even give me the pleasure of enjoying that time with them as myself! If you keep this stupid collar on me and lock me away I’ll spend the rest of my life fighting you! I’ll keep fighting and never stop!”

“Why can’t you understand I only do this to keep you safe! Don’t you see what has happened to you every time you go out there! Every time you go out you come back more restless and wayward than the last and soon I won’t know who you are anymore!” 

“It’s called developing a personality!” Conner cries angrily with hot tears pouring down the sides of his face. “And if you don’t like who I’m becoming that’s not my problem! I want to go out there and be someone! I want to do something with my life! I want the world to know who I am and have fun doing it! I can’t do that if you hide me and lock away half of who I am! You’re suffocating me!”

Superman lifts Conner over his shoulder kicking and screaming as he looks over to Jon and Lois apprehensive. “Um… Can you take him-”

“On it, I should have taken Jon out of here earlier.” Lois agrees and takes her son into her arms as the two fathers talk to their teenager. She saunters briskly down the hall with the seven-year-old in her arms as the light thump of her bunny slippers tap against the shiny bright tile of the Watchtower. “I’m so sorry you had to hear that, Jon. Don’t worry though, Daddy will take care of Conner.”

“It’s okay,” Jon replies as he tries to look back to see what’s happening. He attempts to use his hearing to listen in but to no avail as his power disappears. Then he’s reminded of the fact he can’t hear his best friend. “Mom, where’s Dami?”

“Damian… He’s around somewhere.” She ponders for a moment before snapping her fingers. “I think their room was somewhere off down the hall next to… Ah, next to the teleporters!”

“Is he okay?”

“He was fine when I saw him.” Lois clarifies turning a corridor down covered in glass letting Jonathan witness earth from afar.

The child is put down and he immediately rushes to the thick glass and smashes his entire body against it. “Woooooooaaaaaahhhh!” He breaths as he looks down at the planet earth in all it’s brilliant blue glory. “It’s so pretty, Mom!”

“Yes, it’s beautiful.” She sighs contently as she leans on the handrail laying across the window. “Pictures don’t even compare to the real thing.”

“Do you think we could see our house from here?”

“Well, neither of us has supervision so probably not. Also, we’re directly over Japan right now so even if we did we wouldn’t see it. But I think I could point out Tokyo from space.” She bends down until she’s at Jonathan’s eye level. “See all those lights right there?”

“There are a bunch of lights.”

“Yes, but the ones on the edge of that huge island. Right there!” She points out again playfully as the little boy squints to see if he recognizes it.

It takes him a while but eventually he manages to differentiate the cluster of lights in the darkness from the others. “I see it! Can we go to Tokyo one day?”

“Mmmm, it may take a bit but I think I can make that happen.” Lois muses, sitting on the floor. “Jon, about Damian-”

“What about Damian?” Jon questions defensively but his mother simply pulls him down into her lap as they look down at their home planet. “Mom?”

The brunette doesn’t say anything at first as the two of them bask in the numbing buzz of the space station while looking out into the vastness of space. After a pause for thought, she continues what she wanted to say. “You want to be friends with Damian, right?”

“We are friends.” He corrects with a huff and crosses his arms with a pout.

“Yes, yes, I know but you want to be a good friend to him, right?”

“I am a good friend! I am the bestest of friends!”

The woman snuggles the top of his head with her chin and hugs him closer to her bosom. “You are the best little boy I know Jon. You’re kind, adorable, and loving but you also have a tendency to take things a bit too far. The way you and Damian treat each other is much better than when you first became friends but that doesn’t mean it’s good.”

“It’s not?” Jon questions as he tries to understand what his mom is talking about.

“You’re very young Jonathan and you’re feeling things in ways you don’t know how to process.” His mother explains softly as she strokes his hair. “We want to help you healthily process these emotions so you and Dami can be even better friends. Okay?”

“I don’t get it but okay!” Jon nods and relaxes back against his mother. “So what are we going to do?”

“Well, we’re going to finally have that shared therapy session we were going to do for starters and see what Mrs. Queen thinks we should do from there. Do you think that’s a good idea?”

He nods his head sternly in response. “Okay!” Suddenly a bright cyan light flashes past them and heads straight below to the planet before seemingly disappearing. Jonathan hops forward banging his head against the glass and bruising his poor forehead in the process. “Owie! What was that?”

“Looks like I’m gonna have that first aid kit a workout again.” Lois jokes as she pulls her son back and rubs his forehead. “That’s what using the teleporter looks like from outside. Remember when you used it and saw a light just like that one?”

“I remember! That’s what you saw?”

“Kind of but in space it looks much larger. Physics is weird like that.”

“Can we use the teleporter to get back or am I still grounded from it?” Jon asks, thinking about flying inside a cool rocketship back home.

“I’m not dressed for proper space travel so we’re going to use the teleporters.” She chuckles, holding her son and standing up. “Do you want to check them out? They’re much bigger than the one at home and in your treehouse.”

“Yes!” Jon cheers, throwing his arms up. “I want to go back to the treehouse too! Do you think I can do that one day?”

She smiles and brushes Jonathan’s hair out of his face. “Depending on how therapy goes I think we can make that happen.”

Before they could even take another step down the hall the station begins flashing red startling Lois and Jon greatly. The mother instantly holds her baby closer to her chest and sprints back down the hall to where her family was to find the room almost empty with Lex Luthor sitting alone in the room. As the two of them approached they could hear the man muttering to himself.

“What have I done? I didn’t mean to push him away. I was just trying to protect him…”

“Lex, snap out of it! Don’t you hear the siren going off!?” Lois shouts helping the man get to his feet. “We have to get to the safe room!”

“What’s the point? My child hates me-”

“Lex, there is a siren going off and I have a seven-year-old in my hands-”

“Hi!” Jon salutes at the mention of his existence. 

“Hi, Jon.” She greets back even though it didn’t make any sense. “We don’t have time for this! Where’s Conner?”

The three of them begin walking with the reporter carrying most of their combined weight to one of the League’s safe rooms as the billionaire explains himself. “He ran out saying he wasn’t going to come back because he hates me. Kent and his other son said to give him some space to cool off but they quickly disappeared once the alarm went off. I… I didn’t mean to blow up at him-”

“You can talk about it like you should have later. Right now we need to get to the safety and-”

Lois didn’t have time to finish her sentence as the flashing lights and loud ringing ceased shortly after they made it out of the door. Confused, Jon looks around to see that everything is completely quiet. “Was it a drill?”

“No, that can’t be.” His mother states confidently with a suspicious glare as she examines the scenery. “They wouldn’t have a drill without telling us, especially with almost nobody but us here, and I’m sure as sugar that it wasn’t a malfunction… look at me, ‘sure as sugar?' I’ve been spending too many hours talking to Ma Kent on the phone.”

“LOIS, JON!” A voice rings out from behind them to see Jason, with messy hair and black silk pajamas, running up to them. “Luthor?”

“Jason, what was with that alarm?” Lois demands, letting go of the other man to rest a steady hand on the older teen’s shoulder.

Jason pants for a second before spelling out the situation, “T-Tim got kidnapped!”

“WHAT?!” Everyone yells with the same shocked tone.

“He stepped out of the room cause he and B were fighting and next thing we know that Conner guy came out of nowhere and just took him like a goddamn caveman with his super speed!” He explains sounding just as aghast as his audience looked. “We tried to chase after them but it was like there was an invisible door blocking all of us from doing anything! None of us saw it coming! Not even Tim if his screaming meant anything!”

“But that shouldn’t be possible! He has a collar on that should be repressing his powers!” Lois shouts as Jon sees Luthor’s face go white.

Jon pats him on the head comfortingly and asks, “What’s wrong?”

“Telekinesis… I- He never used it so I didn’t think he knew how but…” He covers his mouth in horror as he realizes what happened. “Conner was created to have telekinetic power to mimic that of a Kryptonian in the event his powers were made obsolete. He’s never trained his powers before but he has tactile telekinesis which protects his body. He theoretically could also expand it and use it as a weapon.”

“AND YOU DIDN’T MENTION THIS BEFORE!?” Jason screams, taking the man by the collar and shaking him. “That bast-”

“Hi!” Jon greets realizing he didn’t do it when he first appeared.

“Hi,” Jason replies before continuing albeit more censored. “That lunatic took my brother to who knows where!”

“Well, now you know how I felt when he took my son on some insane excursion!” Luthor fights back pushing the ruffian away from him. “Let’s not spend time fighting amongst ourselves! We have to find them; they should still be somewhere on the station!”

As the group runs down the expansive hallways of the space base a curious thought enters Jonathan’s mind. “If there was a force field, how come you’re out here?” 

Not taking a break in his sprint he answers, “It disappeared a few minutes ago! I don’t know why!”

“How long ago?” Lois asks as a metaphorical lightbulb goes off in her head. 

“I dunno, less than five minutes! I just ran here cause Superman told me too!” He grunts and she stops the men by pulling on their arms.

“HE’S NOT ON THE BASE!” She shouts powerfully. “The teleporters! Tell them to check the teleporters!”

Luthor’s eyes widen and his jaw drops. “The teleporters?! But that means-”

“They could be anywhere on the planet!” Jason finishes in horror as he looks out one of the many windows and for the first time Jonathan just how vast the planet truly is even in the great abyss that is outer space. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The art... Me trying to do lighting and ignoring proportions but whatever.
> 
> There are a lot of parenting styles in this chapter and none of them are completely wrong and none of them are right. There's a lot I could say but I won't cause that's what reflection and comments are for.
> 
> Conner and Tim are now temporarily removed from the main action that is Jonathan Kent's already crazy life. They still got the main part to play but that will take the back seat that is Jonathan gaining back his identity as a person and working through his own shit. Jonathan has been depowered to a point to where he's a normal human boy again, something he hasn't been since the beginning of this fic. Let's see how he'll survive without his invincibility, the first power Jonathan ever developed.
> 
> If you're curious about what the two teens could possibly be doing, especially with Conner taking the reins, don't worry. It'll be explained next chapter. 😈
> 
> Next chapter: THE BOTTLE EPISODE. (For those that don't know what a bottle episode is, it's an episode/chapter where the main characters are trapped in one small location and just... talk.)


	35. Couples Counseling

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jonathan and Damian go to therapy. That's it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I mentioned this last chapter but as of this date I wrote the longest fic in the Super Son's fandom and I still can't even process it. This is technically my magnum opus. WTF. One of the reasons I write the chapters so long is because I wanted to get used to writing longer for school. I can still barely make it to 500 words for an assignment, so that didn't work. Thanks school for sucking. Also, this was a really fun chapter to write and full of mostly building as most chapters at the beginning of arcs do as I've found out.
> 
> Moving on to something that doesn't suck, thank you guys for reading and commenting and leaving kudos! I really do appreciate it!

Forty-eight hours.

That’s how long it has been Conner Alexander Luthor ran away with Timothy Jackson Drake-Wayne. Everything has been hectic and stressful as both Batman and Superman indulged most of their free time into looking for their teenage sons. Along with their current predicament as fathers, the two still had their regular workload to contend with as well as their obligations as their civilian identities. This meant the fathers had to spread their resources thin and unfortunately time is one of those resources. Lex Luthor has barricaded himself in his tower the entire time without even as much as a peep. One can only wonder what in the world could be going on inside his penthouse.

Jonathan Samuel Kent, however, cannot be bothered with such thoughts in this most trying of times. He believes that Conner and Tim will come home because they’re big kids and big kids always know what they’re doing. The two of them fought ninjas so that means they have to be safe even if they don’t come home! No, Jon is more concerned with the fact that he’s evidently relied upon his invincibility more often than he realized.

This fact is made more prevalent as he walks into Mrs. Queen’s building where he immediately slams his head on the metal divider between the double doors of her office. The sound was short, but the vibrations running through his body were not as they shivered painfully through him. The sensation settled at the base of his forehead causing an immense amount of agony.

“Arrrggghhh!” He bemoans rubbing his skull with both of his hands just as the doors slam shut on his knuckles due to his inaction. “OW!”

“Jonathan!” His mother cries as she runs up to him from her sedan and picks her child up. “Jonathan, this is why you don’t run out ahead of me. Now, look at you!” She reaches into her small purple leather purse to reveal a rather thick first-aid kit so that she can place an icepack on his injuries. “Aww, poor baby.”

“Mrs. Kent.” A notably youthful but methodical voice calls out from behind her causing the reporter to whirl around. 

At first, she doesn’t see anyone but an irritated cough corrects her line of vision downward where Damian Wayne stood with his hands behind his back wearing a rather adorable grey sweater vest with green triangles. Underneath the wool outerwear, he was dressed in neatly pressed black button-up and slacks finishing off his look with shiny leather dress shoes. The image would have looked charming if it wasn’t for the fact the ten-year-old was scowling at her.

She kneels to his eye-level, an action that clearly annoys the boy to no end, and addresses him. “Hello Damian, where is your father?”

The boy clicks his tongue in disappointment replying, “-Tt- Father won’t be joining us today for the same reason the alien isn’t either.”

“Damian, please stop calling Uncle Clark that; it’s rude!” Dick Grayson shouts as he actively jogs up to them from across the street in similar attire to his little brother but in blue instead of green. He waves back once he makes it to the sidewalk and from a black town car Mr. Pennyworth waves back before stepping back inside the vehicle to drive off.

The boy looks up at the man with a glare and crosses his arms. “Don’t be presumptuous Richard, I call all of them that. I show no favoritism.”

“That’s worse.” The eldest Wayne sibling states as he pats the boy on the shoulder and holds him to his hip. “Sorry about him Lois-”

“-Tt- Don’t apologize for me.”

“I swear he’s getting better but it’s been a slow process.” Dick turns to the younger child in his mother’s arms with a bright grin. “Heya Jonno! How are you doing?”

The bruised boy shifts his eyes to where the man’s hand leisurely rested on Damian’s shoulder and back to his sapphire blue eyes several times before pouting at him. “I’m fine.”

Even though the second-grader's vexed behavior is obvious the twenty-four-year-old doesn’t flinch under the rosy puffy cheeked glare of the half-Kryptonian. “That’s good! We should probably get inside before someone spots that expensive choker of his.” He orders pointing at the shiny titanium collar on the boy’s neck.

“Keep your turtleneck up, okay Sweetie?” Lois tells him as she lifts the thick red cotton of Jon’s oversized sweater.

The four of them walk into the office and travel upwards until they reach their destination and enter the waiting room. Once they enter the area the brunette sets her son down where he immediately runs to hug his friend but is foiled by his shoelaces. Jon promptly hits the rough carpet with his face and skids across the colorful platform five inches before stopping at a horrified Damian’s feet.

“Jonathan!” He shouts kneeling, picking up the boy by the sides of his face harshly. He gasps in horror at the sight of his bleeding scratches on what was supposed to be a flawless fair face “What is wrong with you, you absolutely clumsy idiot?! Did you somehow forget how to walk properly?!”

“Oh, Jon has always been a magnet for injuries,” Lois describes as her son stands up from the ground a little worse for wear, but still excited to see his friend. “He was always getting bumps on the head, attacked by feral cats, falling down the stairs, slamming his fingers into doors, falling down hills, falling down trees, falling over his own two feet, falling off his bike, falling off benches, falling off the back of Clark’s truck- let’s just say there was a lot of falling. He’s always getting paper cuts as well and one time he broke his leg when he was five by flinging himself off a tire swing with his friend Kathy after she landed on him.”

Richard whistles, impressed by the amount of damage one kid could take and still be as energetic as Jonathan. “Geez, that’s… That sure is something. He wasn’t this accident-prone when his invincibility kicked in so what happened?”

“He was but the difference is that he just didn’t feel anything from it. Without that, I guess it’s more noticeable now.”

Damian opens his mouth to protest before remembering that he first was formally introduced to his friend after he fell 25-feet through the ceiling onto a sharp metal grate. He even recalls Jon already sustaining several injuries from a previous incident before becoming acquainted. Emerald eyes examine the wounded and baffled face clutched tightly between his fingers and can’t help but note how… wrong he looks. 

He’s seen Jonathan damaged and all of those times it was significantly worse than what he was seeing now. However this time it’s different because these minor blemishes will last and possibly leave scars. The loon got his head chopped off yet somehow a little rug burn could potentially mar him for life?

His fingers wander down to the younger child’s neck to trace where he remembers the severing to have happened causing Jon to giggle and lean into the touch. “Hahaha! D-Dami that tickles!”

“Sorry.” He immediately apologies and drops the head. “I’m just trying to conceive how stupid someone must be to get hurt doing something so benign.”

“Hey!” Jonathan huffs but makes no effort to remove the limbs from his person. “I’m not stupid! I’m a genius, my big brother told me so!”

“That says more about your brother’s intelligence level rather than your own.”

“I get good grades so that means I’m totally smart! I’m smarter than you-”

“I doubt you’re smarter than me. I have the equivalent to doctorates in several subjects and I once saw you struggle to do basic addition.” Damian points out, tapping him on the nose condescending then sits in the kid’s sized waiting chair.

The air of arrogance around him is slightly diminished by the fact that he’s sitting in a bright yellow plastic chair with toys around him. Jonathan trots up next to him and sits on the floor where he picks up a roller coaster toy with bright colorfully painted wooden beads to mess with while they wait. Dick and Lois sit close by in adult chairs as they wait for Mrs. Queen’s current session to finish while making some small talk Jonathan doesn’t bother to listen to.

It doesn’t take long for the little boy’s harmless activity to become dangerous. Damian is quickly beginning to discern that Jonathan, without the presence of his powers, is a complete hazard to himself. Jon was surely going to die if someone didn’t protect him, and the young assassin didn’t know how he was going to handle the pressure of that responsibility. 

“Jon, how does this keep happening to you!?” Damian shouts resting his foot on Jonathan’s chest while his arms pull back on the abhorrent contraption tangled around his best friend’s upper arm. “I swear, you’re doing this on purpose!”

“Ow, ow, ow, ow, ow, ow!” The child whines as he pulls back in the opposite direction. “I dunno! It’s usually not hard to get my arm out but it didn’t hurt before!”

“Why do you even stick your arm inside!?”

Lois, who is trying to pry the thick metal wires open, looks exasperatingly towards her son who at least has the decency to look ashamed of himself. “Jon, what did Mommy say about sticking your arms in things that aren’t supposed to have arms through them?”

“To not stick my arms through them.” Jon reiterates as the toy gradually slips down his now heavily bruised upper arm.

“Don’t worry little buddy, professional big brother to the rescue!” Dick announces as he reaches into his back pocket to reveal a pair of wire cutters much to everyone’s confusion. “B always made me carry them with me in case there was a surprise bomb I had to defuse. It has come in handy more often than you’d think.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” Damian growls as he continues to pull on the toy.

“Dami! Dami it hurts!” The younger boy cries.

The young Wayne rolls his eyes and says, “It wouldn’t if you didn’t trap your arm in this godforsaken monstrosity!”

“That hurts too but your foot is crushing my lungs!”

“Damian, you have to handle Jonathan more carefully,” Lois explains softly as she gently removes the taller boy from her son. “He’s not as durable as you are used to anymore.” 

She lifts Jonathan’s shirt to check on him to see a red foot-shaped bruise beginning to bloom from his skin much to the boy’s horror. Dick finally manages to cut the metal rails of the toy around Jonathan’s arm and easily slips it off causing the loose wooden beads to clatter to the floor. He sighs in relief and puts the toy down then reaches into his back pocket again for his wallet. “Okay, so I’m just going to cover the bill for that-”

“No, I’ll do it. Your family already does so much for ours and it would be ridiculous to ask more from you. Besides, this is our fault.” She states reaching into her purse and pulling out her pocketbook. “It’s just a toy so I doubt it’s going to break the bank.”

“Lois, it’s fine.” Dick insists, already walking up to the barren front desk and slapping a hundred dollar bill on the oak countertop. “I’m the one that broke it with my cutters. I should pay for it.”

“You wouldn’t have to if I didn’t take my eyes off of Jon,” Lois replies with a strained smile and taking the currency on the counter then slapping it on the younger man’s chest; replacing it with a twenty-dollar bill. “Besides, that's too much money.”

“These things are more expensive these days, you know?”

“I do know which is why a young man like you should save up.”

“I’m not a child Lois, I’m twenty-four.” He says, giving the woman back her money and putting back his own. “I can pay for things myself.”

“I know, but this is mine.” She retorts through clenched teeth and a stiff smile.

Damian meanwhile hasn’t taken his eyes off of Jonathan’s injuries and is silently watching him as the boy rolls his sleeves and shirt down. The boy in question doesn’t appear affected by his ordeal other than a sad glance at the destroyed object. “Aw, I really like playing with that.” He moves over to the wall where a wooden board was bolted into the wall with gears and a winding handle. Its sole purpose appeared to be to simply turn the contraption and watched the colorful gears turn. 

Jon does that while his mother and Dick have a very curt conversation about who was going to pay for the damaged toy. Damian watches the meddlesome boy bunch up his sweater sleeve in his fist and attempts to get it caught within the gears but ends up pinching his delicate fingers inside. “Ow!” Jon hasn’t learned his lesson as he immediately attempts to do it again.

The ten-year-old hastily picks Jonathan up from behind by wrapping his arms under his armpits and drags him away from the entire play area. He sits Jon down in one of the colorful plastic chairs hoping that would keep him safe but to his surprise, a loud zapping sound reaches his ears and Jon shakes his wrist to alleviate the pain. “OW!... Hehehe! That was fun!” The second-grader wiggles around in the seat for a few seconds before poking the curved metal armrest that shocks his fingers. “Ow!”

“Jonathan what are you doing?!” Damian hisses, picking his friend back up again causing himself to be shocked with static electricity.

“If you shake your butt on chairs like this everything feels fuzzy and anything you touch shocks you!” Jon explains as he’s dragged to an empty corner of the room.

“I wasn’t asking for a physics lesson-”

“What?”

“I was inquiring why you are constantly trying to hurt yourself!” He shouts in Jon’s ear as he sits down on the floor and tightly grips Jonathan’s body so he wouldn’t escape and find new ways to add to his ever-growing collection of injuries. “Pain is supposed to be a warning that you should stop doing whatever it is that is causing it, not a sign to do it again!”

“I’m not,” Jon tells Damian plainly but doesn’t struggle in the hold; it was like a hug! “I was just trying to have fun. Waiting is boring.”

Damian shakes his head. “No. What you were trying to do is self-mutilation-”

“I swear you use words I don’t know on purpose to make me feel dumb.”

“Which is why we are going to sit here where nothing can hurt you until we get inside that office.” He declares boldly.

They sit like that for only a moment before Jon asks, “What about you?”

“What?” Damian replies suddenly feeling freezing in the warm room.

“You’re kinda holding me tight, which is fine, but can you move your arms down so my lungs aren’t being crushed?” Jon points out as he tries to punch the boy’s arms downward with his minimal strength. It’s odd to go from being able to carve through solid rock with the tips of his fingers to being unable to move a limb.

Damian maneuvers himself so that his hands are wrapped around his torso and the two of them sit there comfortably in silence. It’s weird to Jon that he was so antsy earlier but just sitting in silence with his friend leaves him anything but bored. It was nice and Jonathan could honestly stay like that forever if he had to.

Lois, walking back to her seat victoriously, stops at the sight of the two children huddled in the corner then cautiously sits in one of the chairs next to them. It was clear she wanted to say something but couldn’t find a way to properly convey it. Dick was the same way as he sat on another chair next to them looking down curiously.

“So… You two look like you’re having fun.”

“I am!” Jon agrees smiling up at the man.

The office door opens and Mrs. Queen walks out holding the door open for a group of six children and their parents all of varying ethnicities and ages walk out thanking the woman for her time. The group walks over to them where they stare at the sight of the broken toy before noticing Jonathan and Damian in the corner of the room. The son of Superman couldn’t help but feel he’s seen those people before but his memory was having a hard time catching up. The adults, their parents, stand at the desk while Mrs. Queen works on the payment at the front desk and scratches her head at the seemingly random twenty dollar bill on the counter.

“Sorry Dinah, I put that there to pay for the broken toy,” Lois explains with a smile.

The woman looks at the bill again and chuckles before putting it in the register. “It’s no problem, these things happen.”

The little black girl dressed in a fluffy purple winter coat and equally fluffy pigtails bends down and picks up the wreckage causing more beads to fall off it. “Can I have it?”

“Darla, no, put it down.” The mother tells the girl.

“But mom-”

“Darla, it has loose wires. You could hurt yourself with it.” A blonde boy with crutches a bit older than Damian tells her as he swipes it. “Also I called dibs.”

“Hey, no fair!”

“It is too fair! You didn’t call dibs!” The boy shouts defiantly only for a stocky boy in a green shirt to elbow him and gives the toy back to the little girl. “Ow! Mary, Pedro attacked me, a crippled child, and now I’ll never recover!”

An older teenage girl rolls her eyes and brushes back her long brown hair with a sigh. “Freddie, you can’t use the cripple card.”

“Oh, I’m sorry, do you have a cripple card to tell me how to use mine? I didn’t think so.” The boy laughs jokingly as the girl lightly smacks him on the head. “This is a hate crime! My speech is being repressed!”

While that commotion is going on in the background another boy of the same age with black hair and blue eyes crouches down in front of Jonathan and Damian with a big smile. “Hi! I’m Billy, what’re your names?”

Jonathan sticks his arm out to this stranger and shakes it back with his much smaller hand while the boy behind him glares at him menacingly. “Hi! I’m Jonathan Samuel Kent but I think that’s too long so you can call me Jon! Have we met before because you seem familiar?”

“We crossed paths a few times but we never talked.” He explains as he lets go of Jon’s hand and looks at Damian. “And you are?”

“Don’t act cheeky with me you cur, I know who you are and where you live.”

“He’s my friend Damian!” Jonathan introduces cocking his head back so the older boy has a clearer image. “Don’t worry, he threatens everyone but he won’t kill them… probably.”

Dick and Lois simultaneously cover their faces at his words and Mrs. Queen quickly intervenes. “Jon, Damian, why don’t you two wait on the couch in the room while I finish up here?”

At her insistence, Damian picks Jonathan up like a wet cat and drags him to the room as the patrons around them watch before slamming the door shut. Once they were in the room he put the child down where Jonathan walked over to the bin where all the stuffed animals were. He digs around for a bit until he reaches the bottom where his corgi was laying and picks it up with a big hug. Once the stuffed animal was acquired he leapt onto the squishy plastic-covered couch next to his friend who has been relatively quiet since they arrived at the building other than to yell at him for hurting himself.

Now that Jon thinks about it Damian didn’t even greet him when they met today. Was he nervous that they were in therapy together? They’ve already been seeing Mrs. Queen separately so it shouldn’t be weird that they were doing it at the same time. He looks at Damian who is staring right back at him and Jonathan couldn’t help but feel bashful under the gaze. He blushes but realizes that the older boy isn’t reacting to Jon at all. Even though Damian was facing Jonathan he wasn’t actually looking at him, like there was something else in front of him.

“Dami?” Jon questions turning his entire body to Damian and setting the white plushie in his lap. “Damian, are you okay?”

He reaches out and holds the sides of the older boy's tanned face ground him back to reality. The boy jolts as Damian replicates the action but to trace his throat with his finger right above the collar. “I… I was thinking.”

“You’ve been acting differently today.” The hybrid declares, putting his arms back down to hold the corgi. “Is everything okay?”

Damian nods and releases Jonathan’s neck. “It’s fine, I’m fine. That collar is unsightly.”

“Yeah, I don’t like it either.” The child admits with a frow as he runs his fingertips across the sleek metal. “It’s uncomfortable and makes my neck feel heavy. It also restricts my powers which sucks because I just got them.”

The other hums in agreement. “True I understand how you see all of those as negatives, but I was speaking more aesthetically; I don’t like the way it looks.”

Sky blue eyes blink at him in wonder. “I guess it’s ugly but jewelry isn't my thing.”

“Jonathan the last time someone used a collar on you in an attempt to restrict your powers we were kidnaped in a human trafficking ring.” 

Jon thinks about that fact for a moment and feels around the device. “Oh yeah, I almost forgot about that, but this is different! Mom and Dad say it’s so I don’t blow up and keep everyone safe!”

“That might be true but to collar you-”

“It’s fine, Chris said he’s working on a watch so I won’t have to wear this thing for much longer.” He tries to reassure but the scowl on Damian’s face doesn’t let up.

“It doesn’t matter what form it takes, it’s all the same.” Damian elaborates pinching the sides of the accessory and pulling on it. “I honestly agree that if you cannot control yourself you shouldn’t have these powers, yet the alien has failed to even teach you basic restraint or control.”

“Chris says I can learn about it slowly!”

“And have any of them even made the effort?” Damian asks in that domineering tone that made Jonathan know he already had the answer.

Jon’s frown deepens and he averts his gaze. “No, but maybe they’ll do it later. Everyone is busy trying to find Conner and Tim so once they do they’ll have more time to teach me.”

“Don’t fool yourself, Jonathan.” He scoffs and releases Jon’s neck to slouch on the cushions of the couch. “If that were the case they would have done so long before this. They would have trained you how to act like actions hurt so you wouldn’t look abnormal to commoners due to your invincibility. They would have taught you how to control your hearing instead of suppressing it. They would have taught you how to use your heat vision instead of letting it stay weak. If they wanted to teach you control they would have never implemented a suppressor without an off switch.”

The two sit on the couch for only a moment more when a knock at the door alerts them to Mrs. Queen entering the room with a bright smile. “Hello, sorry for the wait.”

“Hi Mrs. Queen!”

“-Tt-”

She walks to the fridge and gets herself a bottle of ice tea then glances at the boys staring at her from over the back of the couch. “Jon, I’m afraid I haven’t had the time to get your favorite flavor of juice but I have some strawberry lemonade and cherry orange. Which one would you like?”

“I’ll take strawberry lemonade!” Jon answers, raising his hand.

She grabs the flavor and holds it under her arm before looking back into the fridge. “And what about you Damian? Do you want juice as well or would you prefer something else? We have sweet tea, Pepsi, Sprite, coconut water, chocolate milk-”

“I’ll take the Sprite” Damian groans crossing his arms in a huff.

“Sprite it is!” She repeats grabbing a mini sprite can from the fridge and closing the door before walking by and handing them their drinks. She sits on the couch next to them instead of the one across from them causing Jonathan to scoot over into his friend as he tries not to spill the pink liquid on the plushie. “So, are we comfortable?”

“We would be if you moved somewhere else,” Damian states as he sets the unopened can on soda between himself and the arm of the couch.

Mrs. Queen doesn’t react poorly to Damian’s rude tone and instead apologizes for crowding the couch and moving to sit across from them. Even with the added space, Jonathan doesn’t move from his spot pressed against the older boy’s side. The blonde woman opens her bottle and takes a refreshing sip before closing it and putting the drink down. “I was thinking about getting one of those Keurig coffee makers for the office to make hot chocolate. It’s getting close to that time of year and nothing beats a cup of warm hot chocolate. Of course for you Jon, I’ll make sure not to add any milk in it.”

“How about marshmallows?” Jon asks excitingly. “Is it also going to have those tiny marshmallows? Those are my favorite and sometimes during Christmas Dad lets me put a ton of them in my cup!”

“Of course I can get marshmallows but I don’t think your mom would let me get away with loading it with marshmallows.” She laughs and reaches into her breast pocket to write the information down before placing it back. “Do you like hot chocolate as well Damian?”

Damian jeers and clicks his tongue in irritation. “Aren’t you supposed to be trying to get us to talk as you always do?”

Mrs. Queen simply shrugs and leans casually back in her seat. “I’m not here to get you to talk about anything. If we talk then I’m here to make sure that we speak in a way that will help us understand each other better. I might also give out some advice here and there but my job is to give you insight, not orders.”

“What are your sessions with Mrs. Queen like, Dami?” Jon asks sipping on his juice.

The boy rolls his eyes and replies, “I sit and she tries to irritate me into speaking with minimal success.”

“I’m not trying to irritate you Damian-”

“Could’ve fooled me.” He scoffs. She continues to smile at him and takes another sip of her tea before she turns to Jon. Before the therapist could get a word out Damian wraps an arm around Jonathan’s shoulder and covers his mouth stopping his straw from reaching his lips. “Don’t talk, we can deal with our problems ourselves.”

Grey-blue eyes examine the two’s body language for a lengthy moment before asking, “Is there a problem between you two that needs to be dealt with?”

“Don’t play coy with us, why else would our parents schedule us if they didn’t believe so.”

“So this problem is something your parents thought up?” She tries to clarify but gets no answer from Damian. 

Jonathan, though muted, is talkative in his mannerisms with an expressive and confused shrug. Mrs. Queen tilts her head and crosses her legs in a more comfortable position then asks, “Damian, I don’t mind if you don’t want to talk at all but you’re not even giving Jonathan the choice to stay silent or not.”

“But he’ll talk.” He says like that’s a valid explanation for his behavior.

“Jonathan is a smart boy who is more than capable of speaking for himself. Or do you not agree that Jonathan isn’t smart enough to speak his mind?” She smirks in a rather childish taunting way that manages not to be cruel.

Damian’s scowl deepens as he reluctantly releases his fingers from the boy’s lip. “Wench.”

“That’s not very nice.” She pouts after a deep breath and looks to Jon with a playful demeanor. “Does he always do that?” She asks making sure not to specify what ‘that’ entails.

“All the time.” Jon huffs taking another sip of his drink. “He’s always telling me what to do.”

“Well, that’s not good.”

“It’s not.”

A click of the tongue steers their attention back to Damian. “-Tt- You’re trying to turn him against me.”

“No she’s not!” Jonathan defends, holding the stuffed corgi up to his friend’s face. “No one could ever do that Dami. Do you think I would?”

The young Wayne scoffs and slaps the beady-eyed plushie to the side, accidentally hitting Jonathan’s hand in the process causing the boy to wince. Immediately his eyes widen and he grabs Jonathan by the hand and presses the cool soda can against the red skin. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to.”

“It’s okay, I forgive you,” Jon says softly as he holds the corgi to his chest. “I know you didn’t mean it.”

The therapist watches the two boys silently as they resituate themselves and asks Jon, “How much have you’ve forgiven Damian for?”

“Harlot-” Damian begins to insult but is interrupted by Jonathan.

“I’ll forgive him for everything.” Was his immediate reply because it wasn’t something he had to think about. He understood ever since beginning this friendship that Damian has probably done a bunch of terrible things that need forgiving and he’s willing to do it. “I’ll forgive Damian for everything even when he can’t forgive himself.”

The way he said it, the amount of confidence this small child was willing to put behind his words was something Dinah rarely sees in adults let alone children. She almost wishes that she recorded her sessions just so she could hear it again. “That’s a very bold statement. Would you forgive all of your friends like this or is it just Damian.”

He tilts his head in thought and while he’s thinking the therapist turns her attention to Damian who is subtly trembling in his seat; his hands still holding Jonathan’s. “Just Dami.”

“And why is that?”

Jonathan takes another minute to think then answers, “Well… Before it was because Dami had no friends and it would be really hard to be friends with someone who tried to kill me if I didn’t forgive them so I did. Then he tried to use me, he hit me a lot, made fun of me, bossed me around, and own me but I just wanted to be his friend so I just decided that I’ll keep doing it. After a while, I realized I didn’t care how many bad things he did to me because there are more good things about him. He adores animals! He’s a very gentle person because of the way he pets dogs; terrible people aren’t nice to dogs. When we made costumes together, although it was everyone else doing it while Dami and I did nothing, he fed Krypto half the treat jar! He thought I wouldn’t notice but I did!

“He also enjoys art! He’s really good at it and I wish I was as good as him. That’s something I like about him, he’s good at anything he puts his mind to. I can’t even be super amazing at one thing but I bet Dami could do a billion cool things! He’s also determined, meaning if he wants something he can just get it. He’s considerate because even before he was trying to be my friend he always took how I felt into account even if it wasn’t for the right reasons. Once he started to try and be a good friend to me I found more things to like about him! Dami is always looking out for me, I know he doesn’t want to hurt me anymore, he talks to me about our problem and is willing to change. 

“He’s not perfect at it, but the fact that he’s trying is what makes me admire him even more. Change is really hard. It’s one thing to be a great friend but it’s another thing to work for it. I’m more impressed because I know how easy it would be for him to go back to being a complete jerkface and just not even put up with the stuff he finds annoying. He doesn’t have to do any of that for me, but he does it because he cares. If it was backward I don’t know if I would be as strong as he would; to just unlearn things I know. So I’ll forgive him for everything because holding stuff over his head won’t achieve anything.”

“You shouldn’t,” Damian whispers, looking down at his lap. “You really shouldn’t.”

Jonathan sighs and smiles lovingly before taking Damian in with both his hands, dropping his now empty juice box onto the plastic couch cover along with the corgi, and pulls himself against the crook of his shoulder. “See, this is what I’m talking about.” He coos stroking his satin black hair back as he rests his chin on top of his head. “Let me guess, you’re going to tell me I shouldn’t forgive you. You think I should be mad because you were willing to leave me and abandoned everything we worked for.”

Damian’s voice cracks as he clutches the front of Jon’s sweater rigidly. “Please don’t say it.”

He doesn’t listen and keeps talking. “We haven’t had time to talk about it but you also killed people while you were home, didn’t you?”

“Stop.”

“It’s okay,” The second-grader shushes, holding him tighter. “Because I already forgive you, I'm happy you chose to come back to me.”

“Don’t.” the ten-year-old whimpers, not caring or remembering that there was another person in the room.

“I love you.”

That did it. Damian couldn’t listen to his words anymore and began to cry in agony screaming into the younger boy’s shoulder. Tears pour from the corners of his eyes soaking the cotton of Jon’s sweater as the boy continues to run his fingers through his locks.

Jonathan looks to Mrs. Queen, who for the first time since he’s met her is not smiling and gapes at the two with astonishment. “I- Wha-”

“Don’t worry,” He tells her as he reverts all of his attention to his friend. “Dami is bad at people showing him affection and having people tell him he’s loved. He’s more comfortable with people being mad at him, expecting things from him, or being feared by him. That’s why I make sure to let him know how much I care for him, that my love doesn’t have to be earned.”

The woman stares at the children unsure of where to lead the discussion from there because that was a lot of insight into their relationship. She also couldn’t very well say anything while the older boy was sobbing. Dinah decides to give the two boy’s privacy and excuses herself from the room for a moment. Before she leaves she pushes a box of tissues on the coffee table closer to the boys then exists, closing the door gently behind her.

Jonathan continues to comfort his best friend until the sobs devolved into whimpers and the whimpers became shaky breaths. Once the cries subsided Jon leaned over and placed the tissue box on his lap to give to Damian. At the feeling, Jonathan hears a very muffled, “I hate you.” spoken into his shoulder and he smiles.

“Happy to hear it.” Jon chuckles as he feels Damian trace his neck again. It was a weird habit he was developing but Jonathan doesn’t mind as he knows that any contact that isn’t violent should be encouraged from Damian.

“You’re turning me into an emotional sap and I hate you for it.” He tells him, blowing his nose into the paper. “That woman probably thinks she can manipulate into talking now that she’s seen me at my worst.”

“Crying isn’t your worst.” Jon jokes holding Damian at arm’s length. “Your worst is when you pull that annoying, ‘I’m Damian and I’m the smartest most amazing person in the world now worship me’ thing.”

“That is  _ not  _ how I sound.” The older boy scoffs using his soda can to reduce his puffy eyes. “And didn’t you just explain how I am the most amazing person you know?”

Jonathan snots and corrects himself. “No, you’re right. Let me try again.” He loudly clears his throat and says in a mockingly congested voice, “-TTTTTTTTTT- I’m Damian Wayne, everyone is  _ soooooo  _ lame compared to me because I know everything and don’t need friends. I work best alone. Fear me!”

“Jon, I love you but I swear to God-”

“I am too cool to play your stupid child games. I’m always right and know better. I don’t eat animal cookies because they make me feel bad-”

“I’m going to kill you.”

“I dress up in a Batman mask I stole from my Dad to feel cool! Jon saw it once when redecorating my room and I denied it but he was right- Aaaaaaaaaaahhhh!” Jon screams as he’s suddenly tackled into the couch and attacked by wiggling fingers tickling his sides. “Hahahahahaha! D-Dami- Dami s-stop! Hahahahah!”

“Not until you take it back!” Damian shouts, refusing to relent his assault.

“N-Noooooo! D-DamAaahh! Hahahahahah! D-Dami I can’t breathe! Stop! S-Stop! H-h-Help!” Jonathan pleads as he tries to catch his breath. “Hahahahaha! N-Nu! Nuuuuuu!”

“What was that? That doesn’t sound like you taking back those false allegations besmirching my name- Hrrrgg!” He squawks as Jonathan manages to bend his elbow and snake a hand under Damian’s vest and yanks up his button-up dress shirt to touch his sides. “Jon- don’t you fucking dare-”

“You’re becoming a real potty mouth Dami.” Jonathan grins menacingly before tickling his sides.

“Hahaha hahaha! Jon- Jon no- Hahahahahahaha! I’ll kill you!”

The two continue to fight each other for a few more seconds when the door opens startling them. Damian falls over, dragging the younger boy with him, where they harshly land into the nook between the couch and the table. The older boy uses his hand to block Jonathan’s head from slamming into the edge of the table as he leans his neck back to see Mrs. Queen staring at them with a cheerful smile.

“I see you two are feeling better.” She pronounces closing the door and sitting back on the seat across from them.

“I hate you and everything you stand for.” Damian states as he picks himself and Jonathan off of the floor to the couch.

“I won.” Jon declares much to his friend’s ire. “You can’t take what you dish out!”

“What does that even mean?”

“I dunno, it means what it sounds like?”

“I should’ve known better than asking you things.”

“So,” Mrs. Queen begins with a perky attitude. “Jon, earlier I couldn’t help but notice that you said you love Damian. Can you explain what you mean by that?”

Jon shrugs not understanding why such a simple question needs an explanation but is happy to be asked something he can answer. “It means I care for him and love him!”

She nods her head as if she’s agreeing with him. “I see. That’s very good you’re so attuned with your emotions Jon. That makes you very special.”

“Wow, Thanks!”

“Do you know about different types of love, Jon?”

The boy hums affirmatively. “There’s the love with your friends and family and then there’s that gross kind of love that girls always talk about.”

Grey-blue eyes stare at him intently for a second before crossing her arms and leaning back. “Oh? And what’s this love that girls are always talking about?”

“You’re a girl, you know.” Jon points out pointing at the therapist.

“True,” Mrs. Queen agrees and reaches over to take a sip of her tea. “But I want to hear what you think this girly love is. What’s the difference between girly love and loving the people around you?”

Jonathan opens his mouth to explain but finds that he doesn’t know. “Uh… Girls at school are always talking about their future boyfriends and playing games that involve getting married which is kinda gross. Sometimes they drag me into their games but I don’t like it because they want to do weird stuff like kissing and holding hands.”

“Jonathan, you absolute hypocrite, you hold my hand all the time,” Damian interjects tiredly, finally opening that can of Sprite and chugging a large portion.

“You started it and it’s not gross when we do it!” Jon argues defensively reaching for the corgi like a shield. 

Mrs. Queen makes a curious noise in the back of her throat and leans closer. “So it’s gross when the girls in your class hold your hand during playtime but not when Dami does-”

“That’s my name! I’m tired of other people using it!” Jonathan violently shouts startling the other two occupants in the room. “I came up with Dami-”

“Which I would like to point out is entirely uncreative as it’s just a shortening of my name-”

“And it’s mine! It’s special!”

The therapist clears her throat again and puts a smile back on her face as she calmly inquires, “That’s not very fair. Why is ‘Dami’ so special that only you can use it but your nickname, ‘Jon’, is something everyone can use?”

Jon huffs and hugs the stuffed corgi up to his face. “Because I said so.”

“But isn’t it Damian who should get to choose who uses his name and not you?”

“That’s why I’m mad!” The little boy reveals getting rosy in the cheeks. “He used to only let me call him that and all of a sudden I hear Dick call him that and Dami doesn’t even correct him this time!” He flops to his side dramatically away from his friend with a wail. “I used to be special and now I’m not! He even lets other people hug him without trying to kill them! Do you know how hard I had to work to get that close?! Dami is mine, he’s my bestie!”

“-Tt- You hypocrite, aren’t you the one telling me that I should be more affectionate towards others? You’re being dramatic.” Damian grunts taking another swig of his drink until it’s empty. “I’m going to need more Sprite.”

“Another drink couldn’t hurt but it's going to be the last one, so savor it.” The woman tells him as she walks over to the fridge to grab the boys more juice and soda. Once everyone has their drinks she refers to Jonathan once again. “So, Damian is yours huh?

“Yes.”

She turns to Damian. “Do you agree with Jonathan; Are you his?”

Damian sighs and cracks open the can. “Seeing as how this relationship started with me trying to possess Jonathan I don’t see why I don’t deserve the same treatment.”

“I see…” She takes out her memo pad from her pocket once again and writes something down. “Jonathan, do you remember how you said that Damian is trying his best to be a better friend?”

“Yeah,” Jon says because it wasn’t that long ago.

“You said he wanted to use you, own you. By saying that Damian is yours doesn’t that make you similar?”

“Shut up you quean,” Damian commands, putting an arm in front of Jonathan as if to protect him from something physical. “Don’t compare Jonathan’s pure intentions to something so vile as I used to treat him. He is wonderful and wouldn’t dare put me in a similar situation because he loves me.”

She giggles at his display which righteously pisses Damian off. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it in that way. I meant that even though your intentions are entirely different the actions are still the same, or they’re at least heading in that direction.”

“What?”

“Damian,” She says politely. “Just because you feel guilty for how you treated Jonathan doesn’t make it okay to be treated or thought of the same way. And Jonathan,” She says now looking to the boy laying on his side. “There’s no need to be jealous of other people becoming close to Damian and I think you know that.”

“B-Bu…” The boy blubbers trying to form a coherent sentence. “But he’s my bestie! I can’t lose another bestie! I’m being replaced!”

“Jonathan, I can assure you you’re not being replaced,” Damian tells his friend as he physically has to pull him up to a proper sitting position. “Richard is my brother.”

“You said you had no brothers.” Jon points out.

“Okay, well Richard is my brother now. Things have clearly changed and didn’t you just say change like this was good.”

“...Yeah.” He sniffles. “But does that mean there’s a chance we could change? What if you find someone you want to be besties with more than me?”

“Jonathan, I love you and that’s not going to happen.” The older boy groans and takes a swig of his drink.

“So does that mean you love me more than your brother?”

“Jon,” Mrs. Queen interrupts before the other could say anything. “The love he feels for his family and the love he feels for you is completely different. You shouldn’t try to compare and judge your worth based on how Damian feels for you.”

“The woman is right Jonathan.” Damian reluctantly agrees. “You don’t have to worry about me getting a new ‘bestie’ as you so eloquently put it. Besides, even if I do find someone I deem fit to be a better best friend-”

Jon makes a horrible sob at that statement.

“I’ll just find a higher metaphorical pedestal for you to stand on. No one will ever be more important to me than you.”

“Really?”

Damian sighs. “Really.”

Mrs. Queen makes another note in her book before putting it back. “Jon, I would like to backtrack a little to when we were talking about the types of love people feel for one another. Is that okay or would you like to keep talking about this?”

“That’s fine.” Jon accepts. “Sorry for interrupting you.”

“It’s not a problem, it’s clear that was something you wanted to talk about and that is what we’re here for.” She reassures with a flippant wave. “Now, how come Damian doesn’t feel gross girly love if holding hands is something you’re okay with?”

“Because I don’t feel gross.” The seven-year-old tells her as he hides his arms inside his sweater for no reason.

“So the only difference between this gross girly love is that you don’t feel gross when you do it?”

“I guess.”

“How about you Damian, what do you think about that?”

“I think what Jonathan is trying to say is that he doesn’t feel a romantic infatuation towards other girls which causes his reaction to their shallow advances to be repulsive,” Damian explains confidently. “And it should be. I was forced to play that horrid house game and I immediately petitioned for a divorce!”

The woman snorts loudly at the pieces of information and quickly composes herself. “Well, at least you know what you want, but Damian: Doesn’t that statement imply that Jonathan does have a romantic inclination towards you?” 

She asks this in a teasing manner but stops as the two boys seem to take it seriously. Jonathan thinks about it with a strong furrow of the brows. He thinks about how comfortable he is with Damian and how he likes holding hands with him and then imagines kissing him.

He doesn’t hate it.

Oh god, he doesn’t hate it.

While Jonathan is having an existential crisis in the corner of the sofa Damian appears more confused. “What does it mean to love someone romantically?” He asks the therapist who, for the first time since this session started, has to take a deep breath.

“Well…” She begins, not thinking that she had to give a ten-year-old assassin a talk on romance. “It means something different for everyone. I can’t give you a solid answer and I recommend you ask your father or older siblings what they think it is. What I can tell you is that a romantic connection is something that usually goes beyond friendship, but sometimes the two can be similar. That’s why it’s important to get as many perspectives as possible.”

“But I’m asking you.” The boy forcefully states gesturing to the therapist’s golden band on her ring finger.

The two lock eyes for a long while when Mrs. Queen gets up and steps out of the room. For a second Damian believed that he won the conversation, even though that’s not a thing, before she came back with a very confused Dick Grayson. She sits him down across from Damian before taking back her seat. “Damian, although I would be happy to share my experience with you I feel it would be more beneficial to talk to a trusted family member first. If you don’t want to talk about it here in front of us that’s fine but know that you can trust-”

“Richard, what does it mean to love someone romantically?” Damian interrupts bluntly.

It was like the young man’s soul left his body and he stands up as if to bolt out of the room, but decides against the action. He sits back down with a deep breath and looks at his brother intently. “It’s… well… Ummm… It’s a feeling… When you… oh my god why... “

“I’m sure he’ll gladly tell you in private at home.” Mrs. Queen tells him with a smile. “I just brought him here so he can be aware of the inquiry.”

“Yeah, I’m going to need some time to get back on you about that.” He agrees with a layer of cold sweat forming on his brow.

“Why is this question so hard for you to answer?” The fifth-grader inquires with a glare. “Richard, from the various exploits I hear about you from Todd you should surely have a simple answer by now. And Mrs. Queen, you’re married meaning you already have an answer.”

Dick mutters something about smacking Jason when he gets home before saying, “Love is complicated. Sometimes it means you’re attracted to someone in a way that is for grown-ups while also really liking them. In the case of marriage, it means that you want to spend the rest of your life with someone.”

“Yes, when I married Ollie it was because I knew I wanted to be with him for the rest of my life. Now marriage is a completely different matter because there are different reasons people get married-”

“Dami, marry me.” Jon blurts out of nowhere causing the adults in the room to vehemently start coughing for some reason.

“Jon!” Dick shouts in protest and Mrs. Queen leaves the room again and comes back with Jonathan’s mother.

“I am so sorry about this Lois, but it appears I have made a lapse in judgment about the direction of our conversation.” She explains to the baffled brunette that has no idea why she was brought in. “We can end the session here if you’d like but I’m so sorry."

“Uh…” The young woman says as she looks at her son and the other boy. “Is this about Jon’s really obsessive crush on Damian?”

“Dami, I think I love you in a gross girly way,” Jon says holding corgi over his face. “I still want to be your friend though.”

“That’s fine,” Damian responds and Dick begins swaying as though he was going to faint. “I’ve already decided to dedicate my entire life to protecting you (mostly from yourself it seems) so I’ll take that responsibility. Plus I love you so that works for me all the same.”

“Holy crap, Dami, no-” Richard begins to shout but is quickly interrupted by an elated Jonathan.

“Does that mean you will marry me?!”

Emerald eyes roll condescendingly and he downs the rest of his sprite as if it was something akin to hard liquor. “Yes, but we have to wait approximately eleven years for the occasion and my father needs to give you a dowry-”

“Dami, I don’t know where you got the idea we use a dowry but you need to stop; this entire thing needs to stop cause B is going to kill me if you get married under my watch.” The eldest Wayne pleads desperately. “ALSO YOU’RE TEN AND JON’S SEVEN!”

“I’m almost eight!” Jon declares feeling extremely giddy. So giddy in fact he didn’t even correct Dick on the use of the nickname because who the heck cares?! He’s getting married to Dami and nothing could compare to that! Screw being besties; they were getting married and nothing could be more important than that.

“Jon, no!”

“Jon YES.”

“Lois, please talk some sense into him.” Dick nearly cries praying at the reporter.

The woman shakes her head fondly and sits down next to her son. “Jonathan, you can’t marry Damian.”

“But why not?” Jon complains, shaking his mother’s shoulder.

“Well besides the fact that you’re too young there is also the issue that you haven’t known Damian for that long.” She explains calmly brushing loose strands of hair from the boy’s scratched up forehead. “When people get into relationships like that it’s because they understand the full implications of what it means. Getting married is a big responsibility and just because you love someone doesn’t mean it’s a good idea to be in a relationship with them. I think you both have a lot to work on and grow before you can get to that point.”

“Oh…” Jon blurts out, sitting back down and hugging the corgi in thought. After a second he turns back to his mom asking, “Okay, but can I at least marry Dami later?”

“Much later.” Lois clarifies sternly. “But if you still want to marry him far into the future and  _ if  _ Damian  _ wants  _ to as well I don’t see the problem. For now, though I think you should work on your friendship some more, okay sweetie?”

The seven-year-old think about the words some more and nods. “Okay.”

“So we’re engaged then?” Damian clarifies looking at his friend’s mother. “As in we have a formal agreement to potentially get married one day but not now.”

“Technically I guess that’s what’s happening, but I don’t want any funny business.” Lois proclaims calmly. “No kissing or anything of that nature. Also if I even see either of you treating the other badly like I have been the entire thing is off. Do you two understand me?”

“Yes.”

“Understood.”

“Bruce is gonna kill me.” Dick bemoans holding his hands in his face. “Why did you allow this?”

“Dick, if I were to outright deny and separate them it will make things worse. If I stopped them then they'd just do it in secret and we wouldn’t be able to look after them.” The mother resolves, moving to stand next to the man. “They’re still finding stuff out about the world. Either this blows over and the two remain best friends or they manage to understand what they’re talking about and grow from it. Besides, you can’t tell me you haven’t had childhood romances.”

“But that was different!” He laments. “That involved holding hands on the playground and maybe giving each other gifts! Not… Not whatever is probably going to happen!”

“And what do you think is going to happen?”

“I don’t know but it doesn’t involve getting my little brother engaged to a nuke!”

“Um… Excuse me.” Mrs. Queen interrupts raising her hand. “Bruce and Clark are in the waiting room and I think they heard you.”

“That just makes everything easier.” Promptly Damian stands up and pulls Jonathan along with him by the hand out of the room. “Father, I would like to request a proper dowry!”

“Damian for the last time we don’t use dowries in this family and neither did the Al-Ghul’s! Where do you keep getting this idea?!”

“That’s irrelevant. I plan to marry Jonathan in the far future so I can properly keep an eye on him. I’ll be needing that dowery.” He says standing before his well dressed tired father and an incredibly pale Kryptonian in a red tracksuit.

Clark Joseph Kent looks between the two boys holding hands for only a moment before he opens his mouth to say something… but faints instead.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know I said I was going to explain what's happening with Tim and Conner somewhere in this chapter but I felt like that would be too much for the chapter so I'll do that later.
> 
> Also, yes. Yes, this is happening. Yes, this is a thing. Yes, that new tag you see up there is not a lie. Yes, this is going to be a main part of this story now. Yes, this was planned from the beginning. Yes, Jon and Damian are now "a couple." I'm putting that in air quotes for some very obvious reasons that are either already obvious or will be obvious depending on how good my writing has been conveying it.
> 
> For those wondering how can a seven-year-old be dumb enough to stick their arms in toys and gears I would like to point at... myself. That's loosely based on something I actually did at the tender age of nine which is old enough to know better.
> 
> Thank you all for reading this entire thing! I'm really interested in your thoughts for this chapter because I worked really hard on it and am a needy bitch!😭
> 
> Next chapter: The actual beginning of the next arch. It's gonna be very episodic


	36. Sibling Rivalry

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Everyone wants Jonathan's life to go back to normal, even Jonathan to a certain extent. Unfortunately for him, his name is Jonathan Samuel Kent and normality was never going to be an option for him. Especially when someone at school is out for his blood.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHH! This is one of the longest chapters I've written. I like long chapters but sometimes my mind gets jumbled and when I was proofreading this it all came out like word soup. I had to edit this salty bitch many times but I think this is currently my personal favorite chapter thus far. I got so much love and support the last chapter that I wanted to make sure the follow up was worth the wait.
> 
> This is also officially the beginning of this arc. Not to say the last two chapters weren't but those were more like transitional chapters than anything. Thank you so much for reading and I hope you guys keep reading!

Jonathan Samuel Kent is beginning to realize that he doesn’t know what he’s doing. Not to say that he ever had any idea what he’s doing, but finds himself in a weird state of limbo that his seven-year-old mind cannot seem to comprehend. The half-Kryptonian didn’t want to succumb to the airy yet confusing state of being he’s found himself in. The predicament he struggles with is something that he never considers he would have to confront ever since discovering his origins. As he sits on his newly built bunk bed in his new home he is only now beginning to wonder what his place in the world is.

There was this feeling of emptiness inside him that Jon couldn’t pindown the reasoning for but is choosing to blame it on the fact his powers are restricted. He was supposed to have a watch by now instead of a stupid collar but he has yet to hear anything of it. There is also the issue his rapidly increasing power set has not only been put to a halt but completely repressed to the point he was a normal human boy again. Jonathan hasn’t been a human for a long time and pain was something he had to get used to again.

How does one cope with the fact that they could take bullets to the face, hear sounds across the world, and crush landmasses with their fingers to just… just being helpless. It wasn’t as though he was depressed by the fact he’s once again powerless; honestly, he’s simply annoyed more than anything. The words Damian told him a couple of days ago repeat in the back of his mind and he couldn’t help but become irritated.

“If they wanted to teach you control they would have never implemented a suppressor without an off switch.”

It wouldn’t have been hard to put an off switch on the neckwear that would allow him to not accidentally hurt anyone and still allow him to occasionally train his power. The fact that his parents don’t trust him enough to give him even a little responsibility for his own body is what makes the emotions he feels for his parents muddle. He used to believe that Mom and Dad knew what was best for him even though he had a tendency not to listen. While he still has faith in their abilities he is starting to question whether or not doing this was what was best for him or them. Was he ever going to be a person to them or was he relegated to being their ignorant son?

He also has to deal with the fact that while he loves his boyfriend, fiance, betrothed, or whatever Damian is supposed to be to him now could be trusted either but for completely different reasons. Jonathan will trust Damian with his life, his heart, his happiness, but he cannot trust Damian to do right by him. He knows that Damian doesn’t trust Jon to choose his own path because he’s already seen what the older boy is capable of doing to him as long as he assumes that’s what’s best for him just like his parents.

They should really talk about that.

Jon hoped that the answer might lie in his visions but oddly enough he hasn’t had a single one since he put on the collar. The occurrence of his blackouts was spontaneous on the best of times and downright inconvenient at the worst, but they never stopped happening. He thinks it might be linked to his powers being restricted. This whole thing began when he gained his superpowers and now that he doesn’t have them they disappear. It was probably something else but Jon was never much of a detective.

“Jon, I know you get tired after a big meal, but you still have to help me build Conner’s bed,” Chris calls out to Jon from the floor of his new room. “I promise you can sleep in tomorrow.”

The little boy in the giraffe onesie rolls to his side and peaks over the short barrier stopping him from completely tumbling to the oak flooring below to see the older lightly tanned man holding out two metal poles together. Christopher Kent is… An anomaly that Jonathan can’t quite understand. He is a man who is oddly well-adjusted for being raised in a lab all his life and having his only childhood memories be visions of a world that isn’t real, or at least it’s not real anymore.

Begrudgingly Jonathan climbs down the ladder next to the built-in wardrobe of his bed and plops himself next to his brother cautiously. “Can’t we do this tomorrow? It’s Thanksgiving and I don’t want to build furniture”

The brunet chuckles at his little brother’s whine and ruffles the top of the boy’s hooded head. “Sorry Jonno, Ma wants me to help her carry all the candles and hand soaps she’s going to get from that fragrance store on Black Friday, then we hit downtown Metropolis for whatever else she wants. It’s gonna be an all-day affair so the sooner we get this done, the better.”

“But Conner isn’t even going to be here for who knows how long.” Jon points out as he grabs another silver metal pole and randomly clanks it against a matching on in hopes they fit; they don’t.

Christopher stares at him with a stiff smile and an intense gaze but he continues to build the loft bed. “Dad will find him soon and we’ll all be together as one big happy family. Superman can do anything, remember?”

“It’s hard not to,” Jon grumbles, tugging at his collar. “Chris, did your watch have an off switch?”

“Nope! It’s for the best, ya know.” He states looking down at the instructions with his chestnut hair hanging over his face. “I was too young to have control over my body let alone a super-powered one. When you’re older we’ll get that under control, but for now, you should focus on having fun. Let the grown-ups deal with all the borning and dangerous stuff.”

“How long will that be?” The second-grader questions with an annoyed huff.

“That’s not my call to make, so you should ask Mom later after Ma and Pa leave for Smallville Sunday,” Chris suggests as he reads over the instructions again. “Ooh, I definitely messed this up. Jon, can you ask Kara where the screwdriver is? I think she was the one who carried that box inside.”

“Okay!” The child nods, springing to his feet and barreling down the stairs to where most of the family sat around the couch watching the football game. Jon doesn’t know why but he missed walking downstairs in his house. It wasn’t something he thought he’d miss from his home in Hamilton, but now that he is able to do it again he never wants to live in a stairless place ever again.

He toddles up to the blonde woman half-passed out on the recliner due to the exorbitant amount of pies she ate then asks, “Kara, where’s the screwdriver?”

Kara stretches her arms out and kicks herself forward off the chair as she brushes off her blue striped button-up pajamas before heading back up the stairs with Jon on her trail. She peaks inside Jon and Conner’s soon to be shared room with a sly grin and teases Chris on his inability to build IKEA furniture. “Looks like someone can’t follow simple instructions.”

“Shut it, Kara.” He scoffs and rolls his eyes at the girl’s teasing. “I don’t see you helping out.”

“I built Jon’s bed! I’ve done my due diligence.” She sticks her tongue out at the man before walking to the closet past Chris’ room and digging around some of the unopened moving boxes. “Don’t you have powers too? You could just punch those screws in!”

“No powers in the house or around Jon.” He reiterates the words Lois told him while Jon stands between his two older relatives. “Plus, aren’t you supposed to help your younger cousins?”

Small sky blue eyes blink wildly at that statement and turn to the man confusingly. “Younger? You’re younger than Kara?”

“No freaking way!” The twenty-two-year-old shouts in disbelief as she zips to the taller man’s side in an instant. “There is no way I’m the oldest!”

Chris laughs at her stunned reaction and pats her on the shoulder. “Sorry to break it to ya but you’re super old. Ancient if we include the time your body was put under stasis while traveling to earth.”

“I am not!” She sheiks red in the face and playfully, or maybe not so playfully, slaps the taller male in the upper arm. “How old are you!”

“I’m physically twenty-three but in actuality, I’m only nineteen.” He describes with a smug grin. “I guess I’m like the anti-Kara; younger than I look.”

“Whaaaaaat!?” That means war as Kara threw the pillow that was lying on the floor at the laughing man who cries in mock pain.

“Help! This old woman is abusing a poor innocent child!”

“STOP CALLING ME THAT!” Kara growls while hitting him harder.

“Mom! Kara is hitting me!” The man whines, holding his arms up in defense. “if we include the time you were in stasis you’re probably in your late forties right now. Maybe you’re even in your early fifties- OW!” Kara began to wack Christopher with a vengeance.

“Kids, no fighting!” Lois yells from downstairs unenthusiastically over the sounds of the Thanksgiving football game. She couldn’t care less if the kids were fighting; they knew how to control themselves.

“Jon, I’m your brother! You have to help me!”

“No, Jon you have to help me! He’s insulting your precious older cousin-”

“Ha! Old- OW!”

Jonathan, deciding that he doesn’t want to pick a side, climbs up to his bed and grabs his Robin plushie before throwing one of many Superman-themed pillows at both of the adults. “I am my own team!”

“Oh no, Jon’s gone renegade!” Chris jokingly cries as he picks up the fallen pillow and beats the older Kryptonian with it.

The three of them continue making a mess of the barely developed bedroom for about five more minutes when they hear Jon’s mom shout, “Chris, Kara! Get down here!”

“Ooooooooooo, you’re in trouble!” The blonde teases as she practically skips down the stairs and the younger man trudges behind her dejectedly.

“I am not!”

Now left to his own devices Jon goes to follow his two older family members when he hears the shimmer of the teleporter go off in the office above him. Jon runs up to the third floor of the townhouse expecting to see his dad come back after looking for Conner for a few hours to find something even better. Better and a hundred times more complicated.

“Jon, I need you to hide me!” Damian, in a well-pressed black suit, demands hold an entire turkey in his arms. It wasn’t a cooked turkey either; it was an entire living fluffy turkey with feathers and everything. The large bird swiftly turns his head at Jon and the little boy is having flashbacks to the last time Damian held an animal towards him.

He still hates that cat.

“That’s a turkey” Jon dumbly remarks because of course, it’s a turkey.

The older boy rolls his eyes at the other and steps off the teleportation pad with the giant bird still in hand. Jonathan never thought about how big real turkeys were but they were much larger than the thing he ate two hours ago. “Why didn’t you warn me that this horrible holiday celebrating gratefulness succeeded by a holiday celebrating commercialism involves the slaughter of forty-six million innocent bird lives!?”

“Cause it’s just Thanksgiving. If that bothers you you’re going to hate my family’s Christmas ham.” The boy drones as he steps out of Damian’s path into the hallways of his new home. “My room isn’t done yet, but we can hang out in there while you hide.”

“Jonathan, have I ever told you how much I appreciate that you don’t question the fact that I’m doing any of this? Because I do.” Damian smirks as he makes his way down the steps.

“Aww, thanks!” Jon returns as he power-walks in front of the bird-wielding child so that he can lead him to his room.

The two head inside to sit on one of the many boxes strewn throughout the chamber as Damian glances at the bedroom scrutinizingly. “Still small but it is leagues above your previous abodes.”

“It’s gonna be even better once I’m finished decorating my side of the room!” The younger reassures exceedingly. “Chris is still building Conner’s bed and then we have to build our desks underneath and I have to organize my new toy shelf and then I have to put all my school stuff in my desk-”

“I get it, I get it.” Damian sighs, placing the turkey on an adjacent stack of boxes where it simply sits staging at Jonathan blankly. Nothing was going on behind those eyes. “Now, to the matter of Jerry.” He points at the bird. “He requires sanctuary. I rescued him from the clutches of evildoers wishing to barbarically use him as a decoration at the gala-”

“Wait, you had another birthday without me!?” Jonathan wails disheartened by the fact he potentially missed his friend’s birthday. “How many birthdays do you need!”

The finely dressed ten-year-old sighs and explains, “No I did not have another birthday party. This was a Thanksgiving charity ball my father insists I attend. My point is that I rescued Jerry from becoming the next meal on the table and I am looking for somewhere safe to hide him until I can figure out what to do.”

“So… Let me get this straight.” The pajama-wearing child begins. “You stole a turkey from a Thanksgiving party and need me to hide him.”

“Only until I find proper shelter for him.”

“And you can’t hide him in the manor because…” He waits for Damian to fill in the blank.

The older boy breathes again and inclines backward on the cardboard. “Because Todd threatened to consume him. He shall be the first to die when I find where Richard stored my armory.”

Jon nods slowly as he processes the information while staring back at the honestly derpy looking bird. “Uh-huh.” He decides that the best course of action is to completely change subjects. “Dami, does your dad know where Tim is yet?”

Damian shakes his head. “Last time I checked he hasn’t found that enabler yet.”

“Uuuuh-”

“Drake, I have concluded, facilitates poor behavior from you and now I assume your elder brother. He helps you with your rather dangerous and asinine ideas. Therefore he is an enabler.” He elaborates at Jon’s obvious confusion.

“Oh.” The little boy nods in recognition as he stands back up. “I’m going to get some juice. Do you want to come with me?”

“Can I take Jerry with me?” Damian inquires and at the mention of his name, the black and brown feathered bird hops into his rescuer’s lap expectantly.

“Sure! We used to have a chicken farm and Grandma and Grandpa have lots of animals on their farm too so they won’t mind Jerry.” Jonathan proclaims already barreling down the wooden staircase into the living room where a pack of juice boxes lies on the table.

Jon doesn’t get far in his fruity endeavor when he notices that everyone’s eyes were glued to the television set. It put him off that no one bothered to turn their head in his direction when he entered their range of vision. Puzzled by the behavior the seven-year-old looks at the screen to not see grown men tackling each other over pigskin, but a group of familiar superpowered teenagers standing before the Hall of Justice. From the live feed, it was obvious that their cameraman was less than professional but it didn’t detract from the fact that Young Justice stood between Conner and Superman.

“Son, I just want you to think about what you’re doing and come home.” Superman calmly states with his hands up to show the Kryptonian meant no harm. “We can talk about this.”

“You don’t want to talk! You want to control me!” The teen disputes and what the heck is he wearing? He was dressed like John Travolta from the movie Grease with his sleek leather jacket and light blue jeans. He had on a simple graphic Superman t-shirt and sunglasses even though it was almost dark outside. Wonder Girl and Teen Lantern hold back Conner from charging his second father as he tugs on his collar. “You don’t care about me! You’re just like Dad because you agreed to this shit!”

“Conner, your father, and I just want to protect you.” He comforts stepping closer. “And I don’t agree with your father which is why I want you to come home so we can talk. I promise everything will be okay and no one is angry with you.”

“The Superman forms are going to have a field day with this one.” Jon hears Kara mutters, but he doesn’t understand what she means.

“Bullshit!” The enraged teenager shouts pointing accusingly at the Superhero. “This isn’t normal! This shouldn’t be my life! I just wanted to be free and I thought you of all people would understand! You might not want to lock me away like Dad, but you still want to suppress me! This is just another cage! Things won’t get better if I went with your way of dealing with shit!”

“Conner that is why we need to talk about this! We can come up with a compromise! I promise that we’ll even take off the restrictor if you just come home. It doesn’t even have to be your father’s home, you can stay with me. We even have a room set up for you and siblings miss you.” Superman pleads but his pleas do not reach his son who is still belligerent and filled with volatile emotions. “You don’t have to answer now but please consider it. I won’t pressure you into a decision but know that I love and care about you.”

Conner frowns at those words but settles down to the delight of the teens restraining him. The respite doesn’t last long as the dark gauntlet of Batman spins the cameraman and glares into the poor young teen streaming the confrontation. “Impulse, you have ten seconds to turn that off and tell me where Robin is or so help me-”

In an instant, a red blur enters the screen from the left to reveal the Flash holding the small operator in his arms if the new angle of the recording is anything to go by. “Hey, no threatening minors.” He taunts before he grabs the device and the feed is immediately cut.

The silence in the room was palpable as commercials started to play on the television after their interruption and no one dared make a move. Except for Jon. Jon still needed substance so he merely tore open the plastic packaging to the cranberry flavored juice boxes and took three of them. The squeaky crumbling of the plastic must have been enough to snap the family out of their trance as they stare at Jon in disbelief.

“Jon-”

“Conner joined Young Justice, announced it on TV so it would be hardened to take him, and Dad went to talk him out of it, right?” The child hypothesizes aloud as he poorly attempts to balance his drinks.

Kara gawks at him and his mother slowly nods. “... Yes. That is what happened but Jon-”

“And you called Chris and Kara down to see it but not me.” He asks looking directly into his mother’s lavender eyes.

“Yes.” She answers strongly then looks to the sugary drinks in her son’s arms. “I was going to tell you after we all found out what was going on.”

“It’s okay,” He shrugs and turns back to the stairs where the ten-year-old stood. “Anyways,” Jon’s neutral contempt expression quickly shifts into one of the pure joys at a jarring speed. “Dami, you met my grandparents before, right?”

“Yes, I have.” The son of the billionaire acknowledges gracefully though the effect doesn’t have the same impact when he’s carrying a large feathery bird in his arms. Damian finishes his descent down the stairs and curtly greets everyone. “Hello.”

Jonathan’s grandma stands up and saunters over to the young Wayne while Lois questions the boy’s presence in her home. “Why is Damian here; doesn’t he have a Thanksgiving party?”

“Hello Damian, what a beautiful turkey you have here.” Martha coos as she runs a strong hand along with the feathers on the bird’s back. “Very healthy looking too.”

“Dami needed to save the turkey-”

“Jerry.”

“Jerry because he doesn’t want him to be eaten,” Jonathan explains happily. “Now Jerry is going to stay here until he can find him a good home.”

Jonathan Kent, the father of Clark Kent, stands next to his wife while an obviously unnerved Chris Kent goes up the stairs to check on the teleporter’s security. Kara meanwhile is still slack-jawed by the presence of the child who for all incisive purposes broke into the home. She follows Chris after a short greeting to Damian and Lois walks up next to the group.

“Damian, I don’t think we can house a turkey.” The woman says as she pulls her son away from the wild animal. “And Jon, you just can’t agree to house someone else’s’ pet without asking me or your father first.”

“Plus I don’t think this place has a good enough yard for Jerry.” Jon’s grandpa explains as he thoroughly examines the poultry. The elderly man takes his hands and spreads them out to the length of Jerry before turning to Martha with a curious look. “This fella is a bit too hefty for the pens back on our farm.”

“Turkeys aren’t something we’re equipped to take care of, Jonathan.” The grandmother agrees dishearteningly. 

She goes back to the couch and grabs her phone and ushers Damian along with her much to his confusion. Jonathan walks into the kitchen and back out in a short minute with a piece of paper and pencil as he takes Kara’s place on the recliner next to his spouse. “Okay young man, if you want to take care of that bird of yours you gotta give it lots of room.”

“What?” Damian blurts out stupidly because he has no idea what’s happening.

“Jonathan, you can’t start there.” Martha scolds lightly. “You have to start with the location. That manor might be large but who knows what they have in that yard of theirs.”

“Jon, what’s happening?” Damian asks but his companion is still being scolded by his mother to have the time to answer him.

“Young man here is what is going to happen.” The older lady tells him with an unprecedented amount of authority. “That bird of yours is gonna need lots of dry bedding. We can give you some we left in the back of Jonathan’s truck but after that, you gotta learn how to make your own.”

“Martha, I think I still have some spare wood from when we made Jon’s treehouse,” Jonathan says as he sketches out a turkey pen on the coffee table. “I don’t know if it’s in the truck but I bet it’s at least in the barn.”

“Well, we’re certainly not using it for anything.” She agrees and hands Damian a slice of pumpkin pie that was untouched on the table. “You eat up while Ma teaches you, okay?”

“That boy is much too skinny. Why I bet he couldn’t even tip one cow.”

“Jonathan, you know I don’t condone cow tipping.”

“I’m just sayin’ Martha. I don’t know what them rich people are feedin’ their kids but it ain’t enough to turn them into workin’ men.”

“Jon is what is happening!?” Damian yells over the light chattering of his betroth’s grandparents.

Finally noticing his predicament Jon bounces behind the couch with a teasing jeer and pats the cushion next to Damian’s head jokingly. “Ma and Pa are tryin’ ta help ya with Jerry. They know all ‘bout this stuff.” He says as his grin grows wider. “Gonna warn ya now, they can go on for hours on this stuff so you better get comfy.”

“That’s right sonny. If you’re gonna wed our little Jonno here you better be prepared to take over the farming lifestyle.” Jonathan explains as he finishes the rough design of Jerry’s new home.

A few days later school started again and the thoughts of Thanksgiving day were far behind Jon. He hasn’t heard anything about Conner since then let alone Tim, but at least he knows that the two of them are safe. The young hybrid is more excited that he’s going back to school with Damian again! Things aren’t going to be the exact same, he still has the collar because Mr. Luthor hasn’t answered any of their calls about making the watch, but it’s going to be nice to go back to a routine.

At least it was supposed to be nice. Everything was all good and dandy in the world while Jon tucks the collar of his uniform over the device on his neck as he sits at his desk. He greets his tablemates gleefully and they immediately noticed the pep in his step.

“Wow Jon, you must’ve had a great break!” His much shorter redheaded classmate points out at the sight of his smile.

“Really?” Jon cheekily questions as he hangs his backpack on the side of his desk and tries to put his notebooks inside. “Huh?” He pushes the composition books further into his desk only to find that his supplies don’t fit inside anymore.

“Yeah! Lemme guess!” The girl hums leaning forward in her seat. “It has to do with Damian Wayne being back in school, right?”

The taller boy nods mindlessly as he sticks his arm inside the opening to feel what was blocking the way. Georgia walks up next to him and begins to put her own stuff away while greeting the table. “Hey Ava! Hey Jon! How was Thanksgiving?”

“My Thanksgiving was great!” Ava replies energetically. “But I bet it wasn’t as good as Jon’s!”

“Does this have to do with Damian coming back to school?” The darker skin girl immediately concludes as she stuffs her desk with her books.

“Yep!”

Jon pulls out a rolled-up red fabric from his desk perplexingly and his friends look over at the object with the same expression. Cautiously Jon unfurls the bunched up cloth to reveal that a cheap and wrinkled Superman cape similar to the one sold at carnivals. “I don’t remember putting this in here.”

Ava skips over to the other side of the table and tilts her head at the scarlet cape with wonderment. “Maybe you forgot. You do have a bunch of Superman stuff.” She describes, pointing at Jonathan’s Superman-themed backpack and pencil set.

“I think we’d notice if Wonder Boy here put an entire cape inside his desk,” Georgia states, suspicious of the random object. She pinches the ends of it and holds up with her arms stretched out to discover that the bottom of it is burned. “Woah… freaky.”

“Now I know it’s not mine,” Jon resolves as he stands up to explore the rest of it for clues.

His blonde tablemate strides up to the group and plops himself down into his seat with a groan. “Uuuuuurrrrrggghhh! Why can’t Thanksgiving break be two weeks!?”

“Not now Benjamin, we’re trying to find where this mystery cape Jon found in his desk came from.” Ava chastises.

“Ooo! A mystery!” The boy chimes excitedly as he stands next to his friends swaying on the balls of his feet. “Maybe someone thought it was Jon’s cause of all the Superman stuff he carries and put it in his desk.”

“I don’t think so,” Jon assures as he notices a fallen folded piece of paper that fell to the floor with his name written in red sharpie on the front. “This has my name on it.”

“So it’s either a love letter or a letter of challenge,” Georgia says as she tosses the charred cape on the back of Jon’s plastic chair. “And I watch enough anime to know that it’s probably not a love letter!”

“What?”

Benjamin pats Jon on the shoulder comfortingly and tells him, “Don’t mind her Jon, she’s really into those Japanese cartoons.”

“It’s called anime! At least it’s better than those really old cowboy movies!” The offended second-grader fights back with a scowl.

“Cowboys are cool!”

“Anime is cool too!”

“Guys, shut up! Jon’s about to read it!” The short redhead interrupts as she inserts herself between her two classmates. All three of them lean on Jonathan’s back, looking over his shoulder, to see what’s written on the paper only to find a very threatening message written in all capital letters.

> **_YOU’RE GOING TO PAY FOR WHAT YOU DID._ **

The four kids at table blue stand frozen at the violently written words wondering what their next course of action should be. “Uh… Should I tell Mrs. Miller?”

“P-probably.” Benjamin stutters out before nervously laughing. “What did you do?”

“Me? I didn’t do anything!” Jon answers defensively with puffy cheeks. He worked so hard to not make anyone at school hate him, but he must’ve failed big time. “I can’t think of anyone that would do this to me! I didn’t do anything!”

“Maybe it’s one of Mathew’s friends or Alyssa,” Ava suggests into Jon’s ear. “You did beat up Mathew that one time and you know Alyssa doesn’t like you.”

“Alyssa doesn’t like anyone but she definitely wouldn’t be this crazy.” Georgia defends with her arms crossed. “Did anything happen lately?”

Jonathan ponders what he could have possibly done to someone at West-Reeves Academy or what has changed in his life that might earn the ire of people around him. Jon might not be smart enough to come to a conclusion but he certainly knows someone who is. Without addressing his companions Jonathan steps out of the classroom and goes to visit his future husband’s classroom when he remembers he has no way of finding out where his classroom is. This is something Jon should have dealt with long ago when he first discovered they were going to school together. In Jonathan’s defense, he never had a need to look for Damian’s class before this very moment. 

He looks behind him to where his teacher was standing at the end of the hall talking to another teacher meaning she was busy. Jon doesn’t want to bother her by asking where the fifth-grade hallways are located. So in all of the second-grader’s infinite wisdom, he does the only stupid action he could think of in this most desperate of times.

“DAAAAAAAAAAAMMMMMIIIIIIIII!!!” Jon beacons at the top of his lungs, cupping the palms of his hands around his mouth to make his voice boom further through the corridors.

Mrs. Miller jumps at his yell and sternly taps the boy on his shoulder with a disapproving stare. “Jonathan, raising your voice in school isn’t appropriate behavior.”

“Sorry Mrs. Miller.” He pouts regretfully as he looks up at his teacher through his red-rimmed glasses. “I just wanted to see-”

“Jonathan, what’s wrong!?” Another voice shouts followed by the rushed footfalls of leather loafers. Damian quickly turns the corner with Colin on his heels, though the taller boy’s expression was much less panicked. The duo stops in front of the reprimanded second-grader as other students in the nearby classrooms peak their heads out at the commotion.

Forgetting that he was being scolded, Jonathan whirled around beaming at Damian with his arms stretched out to hug him. “Dami!”

“We already did this today.” The fifth-grader complains but doesn’t struggle out of the grasp.

“Dude, you’re the one dating him.” Colin scoffs watching the younger try and squeeze the life out of the young heir. “If you didn’t want to be murdered by hugs you shouldn’t have agreed to this.”

“I’m not dating him, we’re engaged.” Damian corrects arrogantly as he removes himself from Jonathan. “Did you need something from me or did you just develop a habit of boisterously screaming my name whenever it tickles your fancy?”

Jonathan nods and hands Damian the note left in his desk. “You’re like the smartest kid I know so I was wondering if you knew who put this in my desk.”

The two older boys look at the threatening note, along with Mrs. Miller who promptly plucks the sheet of paper out of the young Wayne’s fingers with a worried complexion. “Jonathan, is someone bullying you?”

“I dunno,” Jon replies innocently as Georgia walks out of the classroom with the burned cape in hand. 

“Mrs. Miller! They also put this inside Jonathan’s desk!” She tells the woman urgently causing the instructor’s eyes to widen.

The young Asian woman looks to the note and back to Jonathan quickly before she crouches down to his eye level. “You found this in your desk?”

The little boy nods. “Yeah! It was just in there and I don’t know who did it. I don’t think I made anyone mad enough to do this to me.”

The woman looks to her fellow teacher who also appears distressed by the situation but is doing their best to hold it in. “Can you watch my class for a bit while I handle this?”

“Of course, go ahead. I got this.”

With that Mrs. Miller grabs the burnt cape from Georgia and speed walks down the tiled halls of the elementary school to who knows where. The other teacher begins to urge everyone in the classrooms to get back inside and mind their own business while Georgia stands next to Jon. “Wow, I knew this was bad but this seems serious.”

“Indeed.” Damian agrees seriously as he glares at Jonathan. “You don’t know who would dare threaten you?”

“I wouldn’t have asked if I knew Dami,” Jonathan answers tiredly looking at the ground. “If someone is really mad at me I at least want to apologize to them.”

“Don’t bother apologizing to the lowlife that would even dare think about harming you.” The boy orders as he stuffs his hands into the pockets of his blue uniform blazer. “I’ll find them and deal with them.”

The brown eyes of Jonathan’s classmate widen and she not-so-subtly whispers to him, “He’s not, like- gonna go breaking bones again is he?”

“Again?” Colin questions, looking at his extremely violent acquaintance suspiciously.

“That’s right! You weren’t here for that Colin!” Jon recalls raising a pointer finger to the temple of his head. “On the first day of school, Dami broke all the bones in this one kid’s body for annoying him.”

“May I claim self-defense?” Damian tries to justify.

“Do you need defending?” Jonathan retorts.

“Point taken.”

Pale blue eyes blink rapidly at the information before sighing and dragging his hand down his face. “I should be used to this stuff by now.”

Damian nods in agreement. “You should.”

“Dami, can you not go breaking people’s bones or hurting them while looking for whoever wrote the note?” The glasses-wearing boy requests kindly. “It could be a misunderstanding and I don’t want someone to get hurt because of me.”

The boy in question exhales harshly out of his nose and kicks the sole of his shoes for a minute, honestly contemplating whether that was a promise he could keep. Seeing this hesitance Colin groans and runs a hand through his straw-like red hair. “I’ll stop him if I see him going for the throat but I make no promises.”

“Thank you.”

“Well excuse me for not being able to control my unbridled wrath when I discover that my fiance is being tyrannized.” Damian scoffs, slapping the other the-year-old on the shoulder and walking back the way he came. “Come on Wilkes, let’s head back to class and you can continue telling me that fictitious Gotham nursery rhyme.”

“The Court of Owls are totally real Dude,” Colin responds as he follows but not before waving Jonathan good-bye. “See ya at lunch Jon!”

“Bye Dami, Bye Colin!” Jon waves back animatedly, waving both of his arms. “Isn’t he great?” The boy sighs to no one in particular.

Georgia looks at him incredulously as she looks between the retreating figures and her compatriot. “What’s this about fiances and engagements?”

Jon snaps out of whatever fleeting trance he found himself in and turns to his shorter friend with a smile so bright she has to cover her eyes. “I didn’t tell y’all yet! Dami said he would marry me so that means we’re engaged!”

“For real?” She asks, taken aback by the straightforward answer. “Like… for real for real? Not like you say you’re gonna get married with a candy ring and then forget about it after two weeks, but really married?”

“Yep!” Jonathan nods his head firmly so there was no room for her to doubt him. “Our families even know about it. I don’t think they approve but they’re not going to stop us so that’s practically the same thing!”

“Okay, just to make sure. You, a normal second-grader, asked your friend, the son of one of the richest people in the world, who rides a helicopter to school, a boy that can break limbs with his bare hands, and is in the fifth-grade to marry you and he said yes.” Georgia lists off extending a finger at each point.

“Yes,” Jon affirms with another head nod. “I realized I liked him and I asked him to marry me. I don’t know why those people in dumb romance movies make it so hard; if I like someone I tell them. Even if he said no, I would still be his friend.”

The young girl processes this information with her hands clasped together and asks him one final question. “You’re not keeping this a secret, are you?”

He shakes his head and quivers an eyebrow at his friend. “No. Dami isn’t hiding it and neither am I. I don’t care who knows cause I’m going to be telling everyone anyways. If you want, you can tell people too-”

“Good, I just needed to know.” She interrupts as she hurries back into the classroom where he hears the tanned girl shout, “AVA, BENJAMIN! YOU GUYS OWE ME THAT GIANT HERSHEY BAR YOU GOT HIT WITH ON HALLOWEEN!”

“OH COME ON!” The aforementioned boy wails despairingly. “JON, YOU COULDN’T HAVE WAITED UNTIL AFTER CHRISTMAS!?”

“YEAH JON! WHY COULDN’T YOU WAIT TILL WINTER BREAK TO GET A BOYFRIEND!?”

More kids were taking bets on Jonathan’s unknowingly obvious love life. The hybrid knows that he’s not the most perceptive of people on the planet to be literally the last person to be aware of his crush is kind of humiliating. He needs to work on his observation skills more if this is a recurring constant in his life. 

By the time lunch rolled around more than half the school was well aware of Jonathan’s relationship status. Some people assume that high school or middle school is the type of place with the worst type of bullying. Those people don’t remember the kinds of stuff children were allowed to get away with solely due to their young age and lack of cognitive development in empathy. Especially when those kids are rich.

Jon walked up the glass staircase to his usual lunch table with his recently acquired aluminum Superman lunchbox when he abruptly felt a pull on his shoulder causing him to tumble backward. He sees Colin and Damian who were only a few steps ahead of him turn around at the feeble yelp that escaped his throat. The two of them share a quick look before springing into action with Colin vaulting forward wrapping his arms around Jonathan’s head, and Damian brutally slamming the perpetrator against the metal railing of the staircase.

Jonathan and his friend crash to the floor where several students plus the lunchroom monitors run to their side to see if they’re okay. The taller child lifts himself off of the Kryptonian with a groan asking, “You hurt?”

“No, and you?” Jon shoots back rubbing his head under his messy hair.

"I'm okay."

Colin quickly readjusts Jonathan’s glasses and tightens his black tie over the younger’s collar before anyone can notice as the two stand to their feet. Colin talks to the lunchroom monitors while Jon checks on Damian who is currently being held back by several of the teenage monitors from throttling a fourth-grader neither of them knew. The kid appears to be spaced out as if nothing was going on inside their head. After a few more seconds the child blinks and glances around them worryingly at the fifth-grader who is dangerously close to committing a felony.

“Kid, calm down!”

“It was probably an accident-”

“Accident my fucking ass, that little shit knew what he was doing and I’m about to throw him over the goddamn railing!” Damian snarls thrashing in their grip.

Wow, Damian sure swears a lot more ever since he came back from Infinity Island. Jon knows that his boyfriend can easily get out of their hold which means that he’s allowing himself to be held back. The young assassin knows that if he was released he would honestly murder that child. Jonathan quickly runs back up the stairs and squeezes between his boyfriend and the other student.

“Hi, I’m Jon and you accidentally pushed me down the stairs.” He speedily tells the confused older kid.

“YOU BETTER FUCKING HOPE IT WAS AN ACCIDENT BECAUSE I’M ABOUT TO ACCIDENTLY COMMIT HOMICIDE-”

“Dami!” Jon scolds as he looks back at the kid. “It was an accident, right?”

“I did what?” They say fiddling with a thick implant around the shell of their ear. “Sorry, I couldn’t hear you- Oh hey, you’re that gay kid everyone’s been talking about.”

“What?” He questions before shaking his head because now is not the time for this. “Sorry that Dami tried to attack you. He thought you pushed me on purpose. _Right_?”

Emerald eyes glare at Jonathan and the two stare each other down for a moment before the older backs down. “-Tt-”

The ordeal settles down and everyone quickly proceeds to resume their regular lunchtime activities after being questioned. The three friends finally sit at their lunch table to consume their lunches and Jon is dismayed to find that in the fall his meal got scrambled. Then again when has that ever stopped him from eating anything? Jon grabs his messy peanut butter and marshmallow in his fists and shoves it into his mouth, not bothering to at least attempt to fix it much to the disgust of the two older boys sitting across from him at the table.

“Jon, what the heck?” Colin winces seeing the boy practically inhale his meal.

“Repugnant as Jonathan’s eating habits are, we have more pressing concerns to discuss.” Damian insists as he tries to ignore the disaster that is his boyfriend. “I have concluded whoever is targeting Jonathan is most likely someone that knows his identity as Superman’s son. This poses a series of issues because their ire towards Jonathan is founded on something that could have happened relating to that, and in his current state he’s completely vulnerable to an attack.”

Jonathan calmly washes down the sandwich with cranberry juice then says, “That kid who pushed me was mind-controlled like you were that one time with that lady.” The boys blink at Jon how flippantly stated this information as though he was talking about the weather and the child sighs explaining, “The hearing aid. It was messed with and they didn’t know what was going on. The device used on Dami was also in his ear.” They still stare at him in disbelief. “I know I do dumb things but I’m not an idiot.”

“No, you’re not.” Damian agrees immediately although he struggles to take a boy with marshmallow all over his face seriously. “I noticed that too after you talked to them.”

“So do you think it’s Roulette?” Colin asks with a weary tune and pale complexion. 

The poor kid was beginning to breathe jaggedly at the thought the woman who caused so much pain was coming back into his life, but thankfully Damian stopped that train of thought before it could be completed. “It’s not her, she’s been dealt with permanently.”

“What?” Jon questions. “You… You didn’t kill her did you?”

The young Wayne looks at Jonathan intensely before answering. “And what if I did?”

He wipes his mouth of the food smeared on his cheek and looks away while rubbing his arm. “I… If you did I get why. She did a lot of bad stuff to all of us, but I don’t think that she should have died. She… I mean I think everyone can be good if they were given a chance but dying kind of… You can’t learn if you’re dead. Honestly, I’m still not over you killing those two people or all the other people you killed before, but I know it’s not your fault. Your family taught you that was right.”

“It’s too late to worry about that now, it’s best to move on from it.” Damian asserts.

“Does that mean you did kill her?” Jon presses, noticing he didn’t get a straightforward answer from his partner.

“I did.” He confirms confidently with a frown and Jonathan lets out a shaky breath. “It’s in the past. It’s best not to put any thought into someone who hurt us. Don’t put any energy in lost causes, Jon.”

“How-” Colin begins to say with a cracked voice. “How about we keep thinking. W-who else could be behind this and have mind control technology?”

“I don’t know anyone with that kind of stuff,” Jon admits readily. “Plus they know my class and my lunchtime! They might even know where I always play kickball!”

“They would definitely know that,” Damian confirms assuredly. “And seeing that they are only now manifesting their distaste for your existence we must be vigilant. It’s obvious that they’re not going to face you head on which means that confronting them face to face is unlikely. They were also quick to act if we go under the assumption they started their assault on you today. The time between threat and action was relatively short meaning they wanted you out of the picture as soon as possible.”

“Then what do we do?! Who knows how many other people they can mind control!” The son of Superman panics holding the sides of his head.

Damian thinks for a moment before taking out a smartphone from his backpack and looking at the screen. “Seeing as they are able to have access to any student with a hearing aid we can assume that they can also target students with wireless earphones and other such devices.”

“Which is a whole lot of students because everyone and their moms in this school probably have one of those!” The tallest boy laments dejectedly.

“And also indicates they have a way to access the devices without having to touch them.” The young Wayne elaborates fiddling with his phone. “They must be broadcasting some sort of frequency or signal from the school.”

“What do we do?” Jon asks both terrified and weirdly elated that something like this is happening to him.

Seeing his boyfriend’s eager reaction to the situation Damian merely tells him. “You’re going to do nothing. I’m going to get to the bottom of this, but just in case if there’s another attack on your life you should use that button of yours to call for help.”

The response instantly causes Jonathan to go red in the face with anger. “Dami-”

“I’m doing this to keep you safe Jonathan. I have taken the responsibility as your fiance to protect you and while you may not like it you’re in no position to put yourself in harm's way especially in the state you’re in!”

“But this has to do with me!” Jon shouts back righteously. “Someone is attacking me and I want to help!”

“You can help by not getting in the way!”

“IN THE WAY!?”

“That is not what I meant!”

“Then what did you mean?!”

“I’m saying that you’re in no position to help! If you were to try to do something it would only leave you out in the open Jonathan!”

“I don’t need protecting-”

“You do!” Damian hisses, slamming his smartphone in the space between them and getting up into the other’s face. “You’ve only survived this long thanks to your powers and luck, both of which have run out. If someone were to attack you now you’ll most certainly die and I refuse to have you bleeding out in my arms again!”

“I won’t if we do it together instead of you coming up with a plan by yourself and having me try and keep up! How about you freaking tell me what you're planning so I can be a part of it instead of a bother!” Jon hisses back slamming his palms on the table and glaring back at Damian.

“Mom, Dad, please stop fighting.” Colin pleads in a joking and uncomfortable manner. Both boys turn their matching glares on him and the redhead immediately puts his hands up defensively. “Look, guys, I get it. This is a scary situation and Jon is in a weird position. He’s powerless with that thing on his neck and it’s easier to hurt him now. I mean, Damian is being kind of a dick about it but he has a point.”

“Wha-”

“Jon, think about it.” His friend urges him seriously. “What can you do? Without your powers how are you going to fight this person targeting you? You don’t have your durability. You don’t have your superhearing to help find them. You don’t have super strength to punch their lights out. Also, not to be rude but you’re not smart enough to find out who they are without more evidence.

“And Damian, you should keep Jon updated on this stuff because it’s sounding like you’re going to deal with this yourself when it’s Jon’s problem; like you’re only going to tell Jon what’s going to happen until after it’s done. Aren’t people in relationships supposed to be working together? It doesn’t seem very fair that you’re taking all the responsibility.”

The couple plops themselves down back into their seats with their arms crossed, but at least they didn’t look as though they were about to start fighting again. Jon huffs and taps his foot on the tile before taking out the leftover pumpkin pie from his lunchbox and viscously consuming it. Damian meanwhile has yet to even open his lunch and unscrews his canister of water, chugging a majority of it in one motion.

Once Jon finished eating the dessert he sighs and says, “I’m sorry for getting mad at you. You’re right, I would be really bad at dealing with this with or without my powers. I’m not good at a lot of things and I’d probably just get in the way since I wouldn’t know what to do.”

“I’m sorry too.” Damian apologizes facing Jonathan instead of his water bottle. “I didn’t take your feelings into consideration. I might have miscalculated the situation by only taking into account your physical well being rather than your emotional one.”

“So what are we going to do?” Jonathan asks once again now that he feels they have gotten past that. “Recess is coming up soon and I don’t think that will go well.”

“I’m going to search for the signal and hack into the security footage of the academy to see if I can narrow down the suspects. Father has encrypted my phone so that it would be immensely difficult to hack into. My actions will be hidden by wandering eyes, but I doubt my search will result in an abundance of new information. Unless we’re dealing with a complete idiot they would be smart enough to hide their trail but it’s best to cover all grounds. I’ll also be investigating the areas you’re most likely to frequent during recess because that is where the perpetrator is most likely to strike next.” Damian explains holding out his phone to Jonathan. “Wilkes will accompany you to a secure location. I wouldn’t recommend the study rooms as they can easily be locked from the outside. Somewhere open with plenty of exits is best.”

“I’m going to do what?” Colin questions dully.

“You heard me.”

“Dude, I’m not your servant.” He groans, taking a bite of his ham and cheese sandwich. “You already had me helping you build that weird barn and now you’re telling me to play bodyguard?”

“You built a barn?” Jon asks cheerfully. “I want to see it!”

“Yeah, Mr. Gordon and Mr. Wayne are forcing us to hang out more, and on Saturday Damian made me build a freaking barn of all things for that giant bat and a turkey,” Colin complains, slouching in his seat. “The treehouse was pretty cool though.”

“Treehouse?”

“Yes, father didn’t want the structure built on the manor grounds so he compromised on constructing it next to our fortress.” Damian describes, not looking up from his screen. “Don’t worry, we built it far away enough for it to not obstruct the clearing.”

“The Fortress of Attitude.” Jon clarifies and is met with a begrudging nod. “You took Colin to the Fortress of Attitude… without me.”

Colin snorts at the name lightheartedly and covers his mouth to try and hide it. “Pffft-! You two named it the Fortress of Attitude?”

“I still don’t agree with the name!” Damian retorts flushed with embarrassment. “It’s only temporary until we can come up with a better name!”

“I dunno Damian, I think the _Fortress of Attitude_ is perfect.” The redhead teases, nudging his irritated classmate with his elbow. “It fits you, don’t you agree Jon?”

Jon stares at the two ten-year-olds in front of him with an unreadable expression before smiling widely. “Dami does have a strong attitude but it also makes him special!”

“You’re lucky Jon finds ya cute enough to put up with it.” He continues mocking the shorter boy who is growing increasingly intense shades of scarlet. “But sure, I’ll watch Jon but not cause you told me to; it’s because he’s my friend.”

“Deride me again Wilkes and you’ll be the sixth to die.” The assassin threatens as he opens his lunchbox to eat his salad.

“I can live with that.” Colin shrugs off as he finishes his sandwich and opens his bag of potato chips.

“Jonathan, I’ll find you before recess ends to keep you informed on my findings but also do your best to keep safe,” Damian tells Jon, openly showing his concern for the other’s welfare. “I don’t want you getting hurt again.”

“You too,” Jon tells Damian as they go back to eating their lunches. “I don’t want you getting hurt cause of me.”

The three schoolboys chatter amongst themselves about more mundane topics for the remainder of the dining period until they were forced out of the cafeteria for recess. The group splits off with Damian heading to the sports fields and the other two going inside the elementary school to find something else to do. The duo walks around the mostly empty corridors for a few minutes as Jonathan happily skips next to his taller companion.

“I’m sad I can’t do anything but walking around the school when no one is around is fun!” The younger boy declares as he spreads his arms out and begins to spin around in the large halfway. “Weeeeee~!”

“That makes sense.” Colin agrees jogging faster to keep up with his friend. “I never got to wander around and see all of the stuff here. I’ve never seen a school with more than one building and this academy has multiple buildings for everything.”

“I noticed that too! It’s kind of odd that they have an entire building just for eating when at my old school it was just a big room.”

“They even have a science lab and a computer building,” Colin states excitedly. “I wasn’t here for it but during the first week all the kids got a tour of it.”

“Why don’t we go there now!” Jon suggests excitedly! “It’s not like we’re doing anything else now!”

The older boy thinks for a moment before shaking his head. “I don’t think that’s a good idea. Science labs and I have a bad history. Furthermore, the person after you can hack into technology and the technology building is probably the worst place to be in.”

“Oh, that right.” He agrees dejectedly. “You’re so smart Colin.”

“Not really, but thanks.”

“Are there other buildings we can explore? Do they have a pool? What about a theater? Ooooh what about an art building? Dami would love an art building!” Jonathan rambles gleefully, bouncing in anticipation.

“I dunno about the other two but Mr. Pennyworth parks on the theater building’s lawn, so I know where it is,” Colin recalls as he marches ahead of Jon to take the lead. “Follow me!”

The two children run through the wide halls of the intuition and outside for a few minutes before coming to the entrance of a newly constructed brick and mortar building. There was a gold plate next to the large double doors reading, “Donated by Alexander ‘Lex’ Luthor.” Colin chuckles at the inscription and jokes, “Never new Lex Luthor liked theater.”

“His first name is Alexander?” Jon questions as he adjusts his fake glasses for a better look at the words. “That’s Conner’s middle name… or I think it is.”

“So he named his kid after himself? That’s super narcissistic of him.”

“What does that word mean?”

Colin shrugs and pulls out his student ID. “I dunno but I hear it used a lot when adults talk about selfish self-centered people.” The boy swipes his card on the reader under the plaque only to be met with a disapproving beep and red light. “I guess we’re not allowed to go inside.”

“Maybe your ID is broken. Let me try!” Jonathan takes his own car out of his uniform pocket and quickly reaches up to swipe it. He is immediately meat with a lighter-toned beep and a flashing green light, along with the hard clank of doors unlocking. “It works!”

“Oh damn,” Colin grunts examining his piece of plastic and pulling out a palm-sized smartphone from his blazer. “Maybe I broke it by leaving it next to my new phone. I heard that happens with hotel keys.”

“Maybe! My mom said the same thing happened to her when she was on a business trip.” Jon details as he struggles to haul the heavy doors open. “Let’s go!”

The two saunter through the large open lobby of the theater and twirl around in awe at the sheer size of the establishment. Jonathan hops onto one of the many pure white marble pillars lining the hall and paces around it in a circle. Colin meanwhile is reading the posters for upcoming performances and past plays lining the walls. “Most of the stuff here is done by the high schoolers.”

“Awe, that’s boring!” Jon whines, jumping off the platform and landing on his knees. “OW!”

“Jon, you gotta bend your knees when you jump, not fall on them.”

“Oh, now you tell me!” He groans as he wobbles his way up next to the fifth-grader. “I’m okay!”

“Good, cause I don’t want to explain to your boyfriend why you broke your knees on my watch.”

Sky blue eyes examine the posters and while he knows many of the words behind the frames he doesn’t have enough reading comprehension to understand it. After a few minutes of scanning, he finds an image of children younger than him dancing. “What about that? They’re not high schoolers.”

“Those are the kindergarteners. I didn’t mention them cause ballet is boring.”

“I think Dami’s sister does ballet.”

“Cassandra? Huh, I wouldn’t have guessed.” Colin shrugs before heading further down the hall. “Then again she doesn’t talk much. It’s kind of scary.”

“I don’t think it’s scary.” Jonathan concurs as he merrily kicks his feet in front of him in wide strides. “I like to talk a lot so that means there are lots of people who don’t talk because if everyone talked like I do no one would get to say anything!”

“True.” He agrees, nodding his head. “There’s no one in here.”

Jon looks around the hall as well and notices that there weren’t even any teachers. Even in the elementary school they passed by the occasional student or teacher strolling down the hall. “Maybe it’s an after school thing.”

“Maybe.”

“If this place wasn’t so bright I might be scared,” Jon states as he actively turns his head around to examine everything. “Like in horror movies where kids walk through abandoned buildings that might be haunted but then they meet a real monster.”

“Your parents let you watch horror movies?”

“No, but enough cartoons parody them that I get the gist of it.”

“I’ve been in abandoned buildings before and half of them are criminal hideouts,” Colin informs him as he opens a random door to find a dance studio.

“What are the other half?”

“They’re either filled with homeless people or nothing. I’ve never seen a ghost before.”

“Aw, that blows,” Jon comments as he opens another door to discover a darkly lit room. The light from the hallways reveals a large red curtain and a few seats but it wasn’t big enough to be a professional stage. “A real ghost would have been so cool.”

“Gotham is probably haunted so I’m sure ghosts are real,” Colin says as he opens another door to discover a room full of costumes. “What are we looking for?”

The second-grader shrugs as he sprints down to the end of the hallway to the largest doors they’ve seen yet. “I dunno. We’re just exploring for funsies until Damian finds the person trying to hurt me.” Jon yanks the doors open and is met with a warmly lit concert hall straight out of a movie with its golden balcony seats and rich ruby red curtains dangling from the enormous stage. “Holy cow!”

Colin runs up behind him and is stopped by the sight before him in awe. “Woah… It’s like one of those stages where you see opera singers perform on TV.”

“I know, right?” Jon gasps as he rushes down the carpeted incline and crans his neck up at the view around him. “There are so many rows! I want to go to the top!”

“That’s like- Three floors of chairs!” Colin shouts counting the levels of seating. “They could probably fit the whole school here!”

Jonathan runs to the end of the hall to discover a large pit filled with rows of black plastic chairs and music stands. “I’ve never seen this before.”

“Me neither.” The older boy admits while walking to the corner where he encounters a set of stairs and a railing leading to the stage. “Hey Jon, let’s go on the stage!”

“Coming!” Jon cheers as he follows the other boy. “This reminds me of walking on the metal path they have on the side of buildings. Dami and I used them when we were in Blüdhaven.”

“All cities have something like this,” Colin says as he moves to stand in the center of the stage and looks out to the seats. “Wow, this feels so cool! There’s so much room!”

Jon stands next to him and cups his hands over his mouth. “Hello!”

In that instance, the two hear Jonathan’s voice echo back three times. At the confirmation, the kids begin screaming random things into the open as loud as they can to replicate the sound effect.

“Helloooooo!”

“I like cheese!”

“Your mom’s a hoe!”

“My favorite color is blue!”

“Begone thot!”

“I think Jerry is a dumb name for a turkey!”

“And they were roommates!”

“This collar is stupid!”

“This bitch is empty- YEET!”

The kids were so into their echoes that they failed to notice a large projector screen rolling down from behind them until they noticed a projector being lowered in the middle of the theater. The boys stare at the machine curiously glancing at each other occasionally when almost all of the lights turn off in an instant except for one spotlight directly above them. The two move to the side only to learn that the light followed them.

“Are we in trouble?” Jon asks as he points up at the fixture, shielding his eyes.

Colin doesn’t even answer him as he immediately grabs Jonathan’s shoulder and tries to run off the stage to the side door only to find it locked and the pathway they entered from dropped to the ground. The projector turns on and on the screen in front of the velvet curtains appears the face of a familiar little girl with long blond hair, wearing their school uniform, and a thick hot pink headband over her brow.

“Jonathan Samuel Kent.” The child enunciates as though the words brought her physical pain. “You’re more trouble than you’re worth.”

“Who the heck is that?” Colin whispers to Jon but the blonde beats him to the reply.

“Figures.” She spits as though she could see and hear the boys through the screen. “My name is Lena del Portenza Luthor the Second. Bred from the blood of an immortal and daughter of Alexander Joseph "Lex" Luthor. Most importantly I am the **true** sister of Conner Alexander Luthor! The brother you _STOLE_ from me!”

“Wait, this is about Conner?” Jon yells as he walks up to the enormous projection on the screen. “And what do you mean I stole him?”

Radioactive green eyes grimace at the second-grader and she leans forward at the camera from wherever she is as if to get a better look at him. “Ever since my little brother met you his head became filled with foolish notions of vain heroics! Kon should be at home with his family but you stole him from us and caused my Daddy to be depressed.”

“I didn’t steal him! Conner left on his own!” Jonathan states putting his foot down.

“He wouldn’t have left if you didn’t exist!” Lena screams as her tiny fingers twist as though she was strangling someone.

“Jon, this crazed toddler is the one trying to kill you.” Colin points out disbelievingly. “She doesn’t sound like a toddler though. She kind of reminds me of how Damian talks.”

“Oh yes, that boy toy of Jonathan’s and younger brother of that _other_ brother stealer.” The kindergartener flippantly reports with a jaded roll of her wrist. “I’m dealing with him as we speak, though I’m more focused on dealing with you, Kent.”

The young half-Kryptonian’s eyes widen in worry “What are you doing to Damian!? Why do you blame me?! Where are you!? How are you even doing all of this? How can you hear and see me?”

“Why are you telling us this?” Colin adds feeling as though he’s watching a movie rather than living this strange scenario.

The haughty little girl rolls her eyes and sets her elbows on the table in front of her while resting her chin on the back of her folded hands. “I feel like the answer is obvious but if you simply must have everything spelled out for you I’d be thrilled to fulfill your last request. In order: I’ve sent half of the school’s population to hunt him down and distract him away from your location, you’re a homewrecker, you don’t need to know where I am because you’ll never find me-” She pauses her monologue to pull down her headband to tap on the three circuits on her head. “Daddy once instilled me with the powers of the being known as Brainiac. This means I have technology manipulation; all machines that I can access are my slaves and bow to my every whim as long I as understand how they function.”

“Oh my God, she’s a Technomancer.” The red-head breathes under his breath loud enough for Jonathan to hear and snort at.

“This also means I have access to your phones. It’s how I am able to hear you two absolute atrocities to mankind.”

“Oh.”

Lena sighs tiredly and leans back in her chair with her arms crossed. She snaps her little fingers together causing Tchaikovsky’s Swan Lake to begin resonating throughout the concert hall. “Another talent of mine is ballet. Daddy even bought me this theater so that I can perform to my heart’s desire. I love a good performance so you two are going to dance for me before I kill you.”

“Lena!” Jonathan pleads, looking at the face of the little girl before him. “I didn’t steal your brother! Conner was tired of being locked up by your dad! Didn’t you see how sad he was! Your dad gave him everything but freedom! I’m sorry he ran away but that’s not my fault! I didn’t want Conner to run away either! I wanted him to be part of my family too because he’s also my brother-”

“SHUT UP! SHUT UP! **_SHUT UP!_ ** HE’S NOT YOUR BROTHER! KON IS MY LITTLE BROTHER!” She screeches, throwing a tantrum and the lights of the stage begin to flicker along with her outburst. “You’re not his brother! You’re a pest! You’re a pest that must be gotten rid of like all pests that ruin Daddy and I’s perfect life with their dysfunctional nonsense! You were not the one to teach him about the world, you were not the one who saw his first steps, you were not the one who read him books at night when he first came out of his pod and could barely control his powers! It was all me, his big sister, and you Jonathan Samuel Kent convinced him that the world is in need of more idiotic Superheroes by introducing him to your horrid family! You were the one who helped make him into that embarrassment known to the world as Superboy! For this crime, you shall DIE!”

The stage rumbled underneath them as the processor and screen rose with the crescendo of classical orchestra and the heavy curtains open to reveal a large mechanized green and purple robot with an empty cockpit. The machine glows pink from the inside and a large laser on its arm glows red as it aims at the two children.

“Rejoice Kent,” Lena falsy cheers and enunciates her hatred by practically vomiting Jon’s surname. “You’ve made your first and last nemesis.”

“Jon, it would be a really good time to use that button of yours.” Colin urges as he picks the smaller boy up in his arms and begins running mid-transformation into his more muscular adult form; causing his clothes to tear.

“I’m trying!” Jon proves it by repeatedly pressing the signal only to have it stay silent. “It’s not working!”

“Of course it’s not working.” Lena scoffs at the older boys due to their idiocracy. “I’ve made it so no signals or frequencies can be emitted from this building. The moment you swiped your ID through the doors of my hall you were doomed. I knew I had you but I was prepared for this confrontation no matter where you were. Now you and your friend are completely helpless, Kent.”

As the robot begins to fire at them Jonathan hears his friend bemoan, “Only you can make a deranged superpower kindergartner your archenemy!”

Jon really couldn’t dispute that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Jonathan and Colin are sure having a lot of fun, huh?
> 
> Lol, jokes aside I loved writing this chapter. It's 3 AM and I'm sure there are some glaring grammar errors but fuck it. This was so fun. Lena II hasn't really been shown in comics much at this age so I just decided to go balls to the walls insane with her. It's free real estate y'all and if she ends up getting a complete cannon personality later this is an AU. Conner is now part of Young Justice, thanks to Tim, and Tim himself is still yet to be seen. Damian is fighting off an army of school children unarmed and no one can call for help. Hurray! 🎉
> 
> This is also the most fun I had drawing in a while. I really like this style but it's kind of a bitch to get down correct even though it's seemingly so simple. The picture is kind of like a precursor to what this entire arc is about so you'll be seeing more of all the characters shown.
> 
> Also, god bless Jerry the turkey and Damian's slowly growing army of animals.
> 
> Thank you all for reading and I hope y'all liked this as much as I did!  
> Next Chapter: The continuation of this mess.


	37. Controlled Anarchy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jonathan should be used to people trying to kill him, but at least he still has his most powerful weapon: Kindness and sheer fucking luck.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always I LOVE the comments and you guys for reading! It's either extremely obvious or really vague where this journey will take these characters but I'm glad most of you, if not all of you, are enjoying the ride. As always thank you so so so so much for reading! I love you all and sorry for grammar errors!

Damian Wayne spent his first recess back in this horrid education system looking for a killer after his recently delegated fiance’s life. Honestly speaking this was probably the best thing that could have happened to the fifth-grader today. He was internally lamenting that the occasion would be filled with mundane efforts to get him to integrate with this flawed society. 

Instead, he was pleasantly surprised and rightfully enraged that there is a hidden assassin somewhere amongst the juvenile masses that he could defeat. He knows that his father and Richard were hoping that he would find some semblance of belonging among his so-called peers. He knows that’s not the kind of life he was meant to live no matter how many times the grown-ups around him tell him it’s wrong.

He knows it’s wrong to be excited but he can’t help but feel as though he has a purpose again. Tracking down an assailant using his wit and skills makes him feel he has a direction in life to move towards. All his life Damian has been working to accomplish a goal whether it was to beat his mother in combat to gain information on his father, become Robin, or train to be the perfect heir to the League of Assassin. He needed focus and although Damian accepted his new life away from his ancestral home he was left destitute on what to do with the rest of his life.

And protecting the boy who uprooted his entire life is a perfect distraction from difficult conversations he’d rather not have with his therapist.

The tanned child wanders around the baseball field that the other children use for kickball to observe for any abnormalities. So far there wasn’t much to notice other than a random child getting hit in the face with a rubber ball. Now that Damian thinks about it, he’s been absent for almost three weeks meaning there could have been changes in Jonathan’s routine. He needs to gather more information on the subject seeing as his phone has been unable to hack into the system. Whoever is behind this is smart enough to cover their track but not experienced enough to do it in a way to make another unaware nothing is amiss.

Damian walks onto the field towards one Georgina Bakshi; a Pakistani girl with a blunt demeanor and one of Jonathan’s classmates/self-proclaimed friends. To the objection of the other people on the diamond the ten-year-old saunters onto the field with little disregard for the events around him. He easily swats away the red rubber kickball being flung his way with a single hand without looking as he heads to the pitcher’s mound much to the shock of the children around him.

“Holy crap, did you guys see that?”

“That had to hurt.”

“He didn’t even look!”

“Bakshi.” He addresses the girl at the plate rudely. “Where has Jonathan spent his free time recently?”

Brown eyes blink at Damian confusingly she glances at her playmates only to be met with shrugs. “Uh… You’re his boyfriend; I thought he would be with you.”

The ten-year-old rolls his eyes at her answer. “He’s not. I’m asking what he has been doing in my absence.”

“Uuhhh…” Georgia dumbly stutters still looking at Damian like he grew a second head. “He still plays kickball with us, but when you first left he kinda sat on the bleachers over there-” She points at Damian’s usual drawing spot. “And just did nothing. It was kinda creepy.”

“Is that all?”

The young girl tilts her head in thought for a moment before exclaiming, “Oh! There was that one time he spent his recess in the library.”

Finally, something Damian can work with. He should have asked Jonathan about this before they split off, but too late for regrets now. “Thank you.”

“No problem?”

He retreats from the vicinity and walks towards the steel bleachers with a faint feeling of nostalgia as he’s flooded with memories of sitting on the benches with Jonathan as he tries to get some work done. Damian was always rather annoyed by the fact the younger boy continued to hinder his artistic progress but now he looks back at those memories fondly. He checks under the seating for devices or simply anything that doesn’t belong. Coming up empty on his findings he moves to head inside to the library when a rather tiny girl with wild red hair with wireless Batman-themed headphones around her neck hopes up to him with a huge grin on her face.

“You’re Damian Wayne!” She squeals cheerfully. “We never really talked, but I’m Ava and I sit at Jon’s table in class and he talks about you a lot!”

The boy squints at the kid who is pointing out the obvious. He tries pushing past her but she merely brushes him off with a large smile. He doesn’t want to deal with this girl especially since those headphones of hers make her susceptible to mind-control. “I don’t have time for this-”

“Sure, but you’re from Gotham, right?” Ava asks excitedly, practically jumping like a jackhammer. “What am I saying? Of course, you are; Your daddy owns Gotham! Do you know Batman? Have you met Batwoman? Wanna hear about Batwoman!?”

“I do not want to hear of Batwoman.” Damian hisses as he shoves past her only to have his efforts be wasted as the girl follows him.

“I thought Jon’s boyfriend was supposed to be cool!” She wines trailing him actively. “No one wants to talk about Batwoman!”

“Batman is better,” Damian replies as he walks down the stairs onto the blacktop. “Do yourself a favor and take off those headphones. Moreover, stop following me; just because I’m betrothed to Jonathan doesn’t mean I want to get involved with his asinine circle of friends.”

“Everyone sucks today.” The girl pouts as she attempts to put on her headphones out of spite only to find them tangled in her curly hair. “No one wants to talk and all my friends keep ignoring me to listen to music, but their music taste is trash-”

“What did you say?” The male interrupts as he whips around to face the shorter girl.

“That my friends have trash taste in music-”

Damian sighs and rubs the temples of his head in soothing circles before painfully ripping the tangled headphones out of the child’s head and tossing them asunder on the tar below. “Not that.”

“HEY!” She bellows getting on the ground to inspect the Bat-themed accessory. “My mommy just bought me these! Why are you so mean?”

“Shut up, I’m saving your life.” He sighs trying to come up with a valid excuse. Then again he could simply leave seeing as this person doesn’t have a single function brain cell like all the other children Jonathan’s age, Jonathan included. Fuck it. He reaches into his pocket and tosses a hundred dollar bill at the ginger on the floor telling her, “Those headphones suck.”

“Jerk.” Ava hisses, clutching the broken plastic to her heart.

“You’ll thank me later.” He says turning around and heading off to the school building to check the library for more clues.

Damian doesn’t want to traverse through the sea of unruly school children so instead of going the path of the playground he goes around to the side of the school to the entrance next to the performing arts hall. He swipes his student ID into the scanner only to be met with a negative beep and a harsh red light. Narrow eyes glare at the machine and he repockets his card as his mind goes over the reasons for his denied entry.

He resigns himself to having to walk across the blacktop the door left open for the students during recess because it’s his only way back inside. Damian turns his heel to begin his journey back from whence he when he feels his phone buzz. He takes the sleek black device out of his jacket to find a notification from the school.

SUPERMAN-ALARM: TAP FOR FURTHER INSTRUCTION

What the hell was is a Superman Alarm?

Instead of tapping on the notification Damian instead opens his internet browser to discover that he didn’t have a signal. The fifth-grader knew better than to open a notification he'd never seen before especially when there was a hacker in his mists, so he merely put the phone away to resume his previous course of action. He turned around the corner once again to see that what was once a sprawling play yard is now almost empty. All of the students dropped what they were doing and began heading inside.

That instantly set off every red flag in the young assassin’s head which was already on alert. This is the definition of suspicious if there ever was one. He needed to find the perpetrator’s location NOW.

“Hey. didn’t you see the Superman alarm?” A teacher with long braided hair, glazed over eyes, and a Bluetooth headset shouts at Damian, marching up to him sternly.

“I did.” He lies. “I’m just waiting for my friend.”

The adult grabs his upper arm and tries to pull Damian along towards the other children. “Your friend is gonna be in the basement with everyone else. You are coming with me because I have to make sure that all the students are accounted for.” Seeing the confusion on Damian’s face the man clarifies his words. “It’s just like a tornado drill. Everything is going to be fine- HEY!”

The boy doesn’t wait for them to finish as he easily breaks free from the hand and in that instance a blaring siren rings from the speakers of every building on campus. Damian runs away from the elementary school in the opposite direction. He faintly hears the teacher try and follow him but isn’t able to come close to catching the nimble child. Jonathan should still be somewhere around campus.

Damian leaps onto the side of the nearest building, digging his nails into the grooves of the brick and using the window frames as leverage to climb up the building. He needs to get to high ground to use as a vantage point. Four stories up and the boy makes it to the concrete room of the technology building. Chilly late November winds blow through him from the top of the building while he examines the terrain below him.

Something is definitely going on that has to do with Jonathan, but Damian simply doesn’t have enough information. He might be able to track where all the anomalies are coming from if he can get into the school’s system. Luckily for Damian, he’s in the perfect spot to do it and the boy walks towards the roof access door. He doesn’t bother to use his student ID and instead breaks in the old fashion way.

He kicks the glass window on the exit then reaches inside to unlock the door from the inside. Now, could he have picked the lock or hacked the ID reader? Yes, yes he could have but sometimes he just needs to hit something. If anything it’s the school’s fault for installing glass doors.

Once inside Damian traversed the empty pristine white-tiled corridors of the computer labs to try and find the server room because if it was going to be anywhere it was going to be here. The young boy was unsurprised to learn that the rooms of these halls were not empty. It would appear that the middle schoolers were in the labs blankly staring at the screens with headphones over their ears.

It was too late for them.

Damian moves on to search for his destination when one of the electronic bulletin boards flickers and morphs from an advertisement for a Christmas event into a completely black screen with a neon green border. He’s about to ignore it in favor of his goal when a deep distorted voice emits from the speakers. “Look, I don’t want to hurt anyone. Can you just… I don’t know, NOT do anything for about half an hour.”

“Oh of course you don’t,” Damian replies sarcastically with a scoff. “That’s why you’re using people’s electronic devices to take away their autonomy and kill my fiance.”

“I heard about that, but I didn’t think it was true.” The voice says, sounding pleasantly surprised by the news. “That doesn’t change the fact I don’t want people getting hurt. I just want to kill the alien.”

The ten-year-old makes a mental note to never use that word again because if that’s what he sounds like he’s going to punch himself. “Jonathan is a person too.”

“He’s half a person because he was raised by the Kryptonian.”

“Then this entire fiasco is some sort of hate crime against Jonathan because he’s a Kryptonian?” Damian probes with a sick feeling bubbling in the pit of his stomach. “If you must kill a Kryptonian child might I suggest that moronic ‘himbo’ that debuted as Superboy not five days ago? He looks like an easy target.”

The voice on the other side of the screen is eerily silent then returns with a fuming vengeance, “I tried to spare your life because Daddy always told me to put humanity first. I really wanted to let you go because I have no rancor against you, but you’ve forced my hand.” There are some clicking noises on the other side of the screen before the voice continues speaking. “An Al-Ghul, huh?”

That peaks his attention and the child folds his arms displeasing. “Not anymore.”

“I figured.” The antagonist chips in a rather childish demeanor. “But you were one. That means you’re not proficient in non-lethal forms of combat! Children are so fragile, don’t you think?”

“What happened to not wanting anyone to get hurt?” Damian derides glowering at the screen.

“That was before you insulted my family.” There is more typing from the other side. “Kent is remarkably idealistic and naive even for a child his age. It must be a Superman thing, don’t you agree?” He doesn’t say anything. “He’d be so very disappointed if you were to start killing even if it’s to protect yourself.”

And from behind him, Damian hears all the doors open at once.

Jonathan Samuel Kent whips between the rows of red velvet seating as fast as his little legs can take him, and narrowly dodges another beam of energy aimed at his head. “COLIN!” The seven-year-old shouts indignantly as he turns to the stage where his friend was grappling with the arm of his attacker.

“I’M TRYING!” The large man yells in annoyance as he struggles to rip off the arm of the machine to no avail. In a desperate attempt to stop the robot the redhead punches its thick glass dome only to find that it had no effect. “FUCK!”

A girly snicker resonates over the music being played in the hall and the projection of Lena gleams at the futile effort. “That material is made to withstand the force of Superman! A pathetic nobody like you doesn’t even stand a chance.”

“You’re a mean little girl!” Jon insults as he gets to one of the doors to yank open. He’s met with an unforgiving thud of metal and he turns back to the enhanced ten-year-old. “This one’s locked too!”

“Ya think!?” Colin grits through his teeth as he manages to push the laser cannon arm up in time before it could be shot at the younger boy.

The red light unstably zips down its path and to the second-floor balcony of seats causing a significant portion of the deck to drop down in front of Jonathan as he runs to another part of the theater in his endeavor to escape. The boy sprints to the end of the seating to a narrow staircase to the higher levels of the concert hall. Jon manages to find an empty room in the middle of the third floor of seats and though the lighting was dim he could tell it was the control room. 

Jon tries opening the side door inside but it is locked. The boy runs to the railing to look down at the wreckage of the second floor when an idea pops into his head. He looks to his friend still tussling on the stage underneath the spotlight and waves to him. “COLIN-” He doesn’t even have time to voice his plan when a laser blasts past the side of his head, burning some of his hairs and creating a large hole in the walls. “Nevermind, I found an exit!”

“That’ll show me to put the help on auto-fire.” Lena groans and rubs her face with both of her hands. “Daddy always says, if you want to do something right you do it yourself.”

The procession turns off but the robot remains vigilant in its mission to turn Jonathan’s body into ashes. Jets under the hulking monstrosity’s feet ignite and launch itself upward and the curtains to catch on fire. Colin hangs on for his dear life while the green and purple robots fly to where Jon is to shoot him. 

Jon meanwhile is scrambling over the plaster and wood debris to the opening the robot created for him. Before it’s able to get a shot out of itself again the scarred fifth-grader shakily stands on it’s back like a skateboard and jumps; sending the machine careening headfirst into the seats below. The large man leaps off and pulls himself onto the ledge where he picks up the depowered half-Kryptonian and tackles his way through the hole in the wall.

“Is it gone?” Jon asks as they enter back into the brightly lit halls of the theater building.

A beam of energy knocks into Colin’s shoulder and the two crash onto the tiled floor with an unforgiving thump. “No…” The boy hisses as he looks at his charred shoulder before standing back up to keep moving. “I’ve had worse, but at least this time I can run.”

Sky blue eyes look up to his companion worryingly as they dash through the halls towards the exit of the building. “Colin, we can’t just keep running-”

“Says you!” The boy spits back, holding Jon closer to his chest as he hops over the guardrail of the stairs and drops to the first floor. “I’ve spent enough of my life fighting insane monsters to the death for others! If there’s a way out then we’ll find a way out!”

“We can’t go outside with that thing following us!” Jon suggests as he’s carried down the corridor. “Let’s hide in one of the rooms!”

Following his advice, Colin opens the first door he comes across and locks it shut before barricading it with a stack of shelves next to the entrance. The large man shrinks down back into his regular form albeit now only donning a ripped pair of pants and threads of a white dress shirt as he takes Jon to hide behind a row of costumed mannequins. The two of them hear the sounds of the robot landing outside of the room and stomping down the hall past them and let out a sigh of relief.

“What do we do now?” The older boy asks as he grabs a random white shirt that is much too big for his body off one of the mannequins to cover himself.

“I dunno, but I know I can’t let that thing trying to kill me get out to the rest of the school and hurt other people!” Jon replies with his eyes wandering the room for something to help him.

“You think if we get outside you can start screaming for help? I bet Superman or one of your other relatives will come if they hear you.”

“Probably, but we have to get rid of that robot first.” He stands up and finds a model about his height. Jon begins stripping his uniform too and putting it on the mannequin much to his friend’s discomfort.

“Dude, what the heck are you doing?” Colin asks as he quickly drapes a random bolt of fabric over his friend’s shoulders.

Jonathan pulls up the pants over the plastic legs answering, “I’m making a distraction.”

Pale blue eyes blink at the doll shockingly. “I think the robot knows the difference between a plastic body and a living boy.”

“Not if it can’t see the whole thing.” The younger boy points out as he takes off his thick scarlet frames and places them on the empty face. “Lena isn’t driving that thing, so it’s just shooting at me, or what looks like me… I hope. I’m not sure how it’s locking onto me but it’s worth a try.”

Colin glances around them and finds a short black wig that almost matches the unnatural deepness of Jonathan’s pure black locks. The style wasn’t the same as Jon’s rumpled fluffy hair, but it was enough to almost be similar from a distance. He puts it on the mannequin and the two boys inspect it thoroughly then nod in approval.

“We have a decoy that might not even work. Now what?” Colin questions. Jon looks at his friend with large innocent pleading eyes and the ten-year-old goes pale and a little green. “No. NO. Nonononononononononononono! No. N- O. NO. There is nothing you can say or do that will make me-”

And that is how Colin found himself running away from an angry death machine with a fake Jonathan in his arms. He really needs to stop expecting his life to be normal because it’s clearly not going to happen any time soon. As soon as he leaves the hall Jon peaks his head out of the room before running back inside and going out the window Colin opened for him.

He makes a note to pay back his friend later but for now, he needs to get out and call his dad to save him. Sure, running outside in the clothes he’s wearing, a large baby blue shirt that reaches his shins, shouting for Superman at the top of his lungs isn’t the greatest idea in the world but can’t do much else. Once outside Jonathan begins screaming his little head off while waving his arms wildly in the air.

His family always said that they’ll be there for him if he calls but after a minute of the yelling he realizes that no one is coming. Jon tries the button again but nothing happens. He knew that wouldn’t work but where is his dad? Where’s his cousin? Where is his brother? Whatever Lena did was only supposed to block his technology, right?

Jonathan looks around the empty courtyard in front of him clutching the signal against his neck with shaky hands. He’s dealt with worse… Jonathan has had worse things that happened to him. He can’t think about anything besides getting help! He doesn’t have powers and his friends are in danger while trying to protect him. He needs to run! He has to run past the school gates to the outside world before something happens to them. Jon’s bare feet sprint across the freezing grass and doesn’t even make it past the roundabout when he slams into some sort of invisible wall. 

“You didn’t think I would let you go that easily, did you Kent?” Lena’s haughty voice emanates from behind him powerfully.

Hesitantly, the seven-year-old turns around to find an even larger robot than the one in the concert hall towering over him in all it’s neon pink and green glory. It kind of burns to look at but on the top of the machine behind a thick layer of green-tinted glass sat the girl herself. The little oppressor in the making glared at Jonathan with all her hatred as the clunky tank of a robot rolled up to him at breakneck speeds.

Jonathan scrambles out of the way of its treads as the weapon skids over where the young boy occupied previously leaving behind a path of unearthed dirt. “LENA, STOP!” The hybrid begs on his knees as he struggles to get up. Blood and loose skin hang off the palms of his hands and the front of his knees where he fell, but Jon simply fights through the pain. 

He’s suffered worse.

“Killing me isn’t going to bring Conner back to you!” He screams with tears pouring out his eyes and for what he doesn’t know. “Killing me won’t make him happy with you either!”

“You’re a stupid child!” She sheiks causing the pink circuits on her forehead glow brighter as the robot points both it’s armed at Jon and fires at him.

“DAD! DAD HELP!” He screams again as he scrambles backward from the pink lasers knowing he won’t be heard.

Funnily enough, the lasers miss him much to Lena’s frustrations, and she slams the console of her robot enraged by its mistake. “Arrrrrrrgh! What is wrong with you!? You’re supposed to do what I want and I want him dead! DO BETTER!”

Jonathan takes this respite to stand up and limp away to anywhere. He runs as fast as he could, however, the speeds aren’t incredibly fast. Hell, he’s barely doing better than a light jog but it’s the best he can manage. The rumble of the lawn below him warns him of the robot barreling towards him and there was no way he could move out of the way in time.

“DAMIAN!” He cries in one last plea something would help him.

It was then the second-grader got the wind knocked out of him by a tackle from his right. “Jonathan, what the fuck?!”

“Bad word.” Jon groans as he looks to his side where Damian is already getting back on his feet. “Hi Dami, how was your recess? Mine is going great!” He tries to joke but the break in his voice holding back a sob doesn’t bring out the humor he intended.

“Quite honestly my day was going fantastic until now. I got in some great cardio and fresh air.” The older boy responds with a bit of amusement before taking off his blazer and plopping it over the shorter boy’s head. He thumbs the tears in the corners of Jonathan’s eyes away with a conceited smirk, “Though I could do without this.”

If there wasn’t a crap ton of adrenaline pumping through Jonathan’s body he would feel his knees go weak at that comment. “Y-yeah, sorry-”

“Don’t apologize, that would imply you asked for this.” Damian orders, shutting the boy up. “Where’s Wilkes, he was supposed to be protecting you?”

“He was- is. He is.” Jonathan says as he points to the theater building. “Colin is distracting another robot while I go get help but there’s an invisible wall-”

“And your signal isn’t working.” He finishes as he points to the device in his betrothed’s bloody dirt cover hands.

A beam of pink energy shoots in between the pair as Lena’s robot clunkily turns around and tries to run over them again. “ARE YOU IGNORING ME?!”

Before Jonathan could give her an answer he’s tossed over Damian’s shoulder and taken back inside the performing arts hall. “WILKES!” The assassin calls out as he kicks in the glass entrance of the building.

“Did you have to kick it?” Jon asks as he uses the jacket to protect him from falling shards.

“Pot meets kettle much,” Damian retorts, coolly stepping inside. “WILKES, GET OVER HERE!”

“Please tell me she’s gone!” A deep voice from the second floor pleads followed by a red laser flying above their heads and into the wall behind them.

“NOPE!” Jon clarifies with a shout next to his boyfriend’s ear causing him to wince as they run to the stairs. “We’re running!”

“We’re not running, we’re regrouping.”

“Is there a difference?”

“Of course there is.”

“GUYS!” Colin screams as a laser goes off destroying another wall.

Halfway up the stairs, the front entrance is smashed in by the two-story-tall pink automaton piloted by Lena. Immediately upon seeing the two she points her laser cannons at them and fires. “Hold still and let me shoot you!”

“No!” Jon replies as he’s thrown on the higher floor to avoid the blast.

He’s swiftly picked back up and carried over to where they hear Colin screaming still carrying around the fake Jonathan around. Upon arriving on the scene the green and purple robot look between Damian and Colin for a second, as though it was debating who had the real Jon, before settling on Colin. It shoots at him and the boy isn’t able to escape the blast in time as he takes the full brunt of it on his back, scorching his shirt.

The shock of the attack is enough for Colin to depower from it and Damian grabs him by the back of the shirt and drags him away into a separate hall and room on the second floor. The room was a moderately normal classroom aside from the miniature stage up at the front. Once inside Damian drops the two boys on the ground and stares at the mannequin in disbelief.

“There is so much I want to say right now, but I’ll simply settle for: What the fuck?”

“You say that, but it worked… And since you’re here I’m guessing calling for help did nothing.” Colin grunts as Jonathan turns him to his side to check on his back. 

“It’s really red but… I think it’s fine?” Jon says in a puzzled tone. “I mean your shirt is ruined again, but other than it’s not too serious looking. Do you feel bad?”

The tall red-head pats himself down several times, slapping his body with flat hands, then shakes his head with the same expression as Jonathan. “I… no? That thing wrecked the walls, how am I okay?!”

“Maybe you’re just really thick-skinned!” The youngest of them propose happily. “My mom says that means that you can take anything that happens to you!”

“Or that… What did you call her? Lena?” Damian questions and Jon nods in confirmation. “That Lena girl is completely incompetent. She tried to kill me too but it’s clear she doesn’t have the heart of a killer.”

Sky blue eyes widen at the words and Jonathan snaps his head to Damian as a blast outside rumbles the building. “What did you say?”

Damian sighs, kicking the fake Jon’s plastic leg away. “I said she doesn’t have the heart of a killer. She attempted to use the student body to fight me but all they did was try to hold me down. It was relatively easy to escape from them seeing as this Lena character knew I wouldn’t try to hurt them and their strength is nothing compared to mine.”

“How do you manage to brag at a time like this?” Colin mutters as he sits up.

“It’s not a boast if it is true.” He counters, turning his nose up. “If I were in her position and needed to kill Jonathan- which I don’t. I haven’t even thought of it but I’m just describing a hypothetical.”

“I know.” Jon nods, motioning for him to continue.

“Good. As I was saying, if I wanted to kill Jonathan there are more simple and less convoluted ways to go about it. Lena is clearly proficient with technology so I would find you in a secluded place, kill the camera, and stab you repeatedly. If I cared for what remains of the corpse then I would use the robot’s laser to cremate you on the spot or burn down the building to rid myself of the evidence. Warning all of the students to take shelter, threatening you, having someone try and push you down the stairs with no guarantee of death, and whatever the hell else is happening out there is all theatrics. She needs to commit to killing you rather than her aesthetic.”

“Dude,” Colin says plainly followed by a single slow blink at the assassin.

“I’m not saying aesthetic isn’t important but that shouldn’t take precedence over cold-blooded murder. This is the problem with many supervillains; their priorities are all out of line. A simple knife to the chest or gun to the head hasn’t gone out of style-”

“DAMI, YOU’RE A GENIUS!” Jon proclaims, suddenly standing to his feet and picking up the mannequin.

“Oh, so we are going to stab her,” Damian states, reaching into his back pocket and pulling out a butter knife. “Good to know.”

“What the fuck…” Colin breathes as he looks at the improvised weapon in his classmate’s hand.

“It’s dull. That means it will hurt more when I force it into her throat-”

“Dami, we’re not killing Lena.” The half-Kryptonian interjects quickly pressing down the arm holding the knife down back to his side. “I thought she wanted to kill me all this time, but you’re right Dami! Lena isn’t a killer, she’s a Kindergartener.”

“When I was six I already had blood on my hands.”

“I know, but she doesn’t.” Jon points out as he opens the door with the mannequin in hand. “If this was someone trying to kill me I’d be completely useless, but this isn’t a murder problem; this is a heart problem! I’m great at those!”

“A heart problem?” The pale ten-year-old in tatters questions, utterly confused by the swords, and looks to the other boy to find him mid-facepalm.

Damian releases the longest most aggravated grunt he could muster and pinches the bridge of his nose. “Jon, don’t-”

“I’m going to fight her head-on with the power of love and friendship!” Jonathan proclaims as he limps out of the rooms dragging the doll along with him.

“He said it. He fucking said it.” Damian laments as he begrudgingly follows. “Whatever happened to just punching these villains? Must everything be a trail by talking things out? Why must I live in an era where simply beating people within an inch of their life wasn't socially acceptable and heroic behavior?”

“In Jon’s defense, I think half of his friends start out by trying to kill him. You, me… Uh… I’m sure there are others.” Colin chuckles, picking himself up and patting Damian on the top of the shoulder sympathetically.

“A habit that I need to put a stop to if I ever want him to make it to our wedding day.”

“You’re really taking this marriage thing seriously.” The boy snorts before his expression falls into a solemn cast. “I know you care a lot about Jon, but is this a good idea? You two together, I mean.”

“Are you doubting my resolve, Wilkes?”

“I have no idea how to answer that but I’m definitely doubting your relationship. Jon’s a pile or horrible events happening to him and you’re… you.” Emerald eyes stare at Colin disapprovingly but the red-head continues. “You know what I mean, I was on the Island with Jon too. Two broken people put together is still a broken person.”

“That doesn’t matter.” Damian hisses through his teeth. “As long as I care for him-”

“You might love him but he’s  _ in  _ love with you.” He asks, walking ahead of the other and into the hall where colorful lasers are being fired at random. “Maybe worse.”

“Keep your nose out of our business Wilkes, you don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Neither do you.” Colin counters solemnly.

“DO IT! SHOOT ME!” They hear Jonathan shout from the first floor, holding the fake Jon above his head like a barbarian. “I’m right here Lena! SHOOOOOOT MEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!” The little girl in the mech balks at the youngest Kryptonian’s declaration but the other robot hand no qualms with simply shooting him. The red beam of light hits his tiny body, knocking him over and setting the mannequin in his arms on fire. 

“See! That machine only destroys stuff, not people! You’re a good person!” Jon cheers victoriously on the floor before his face goes red. “AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHH!” The seven-year-old begins to sprint around the lobby of the performance hall, ignoring the stinging pain of his knees, to try and outrun the fire on his person and hands. “AAAAAAHHH! Why didn’t anyone tell me burning would hurt so bad!?”

“ARE YOU DAFT?!” Lena screeches as she panicky releases herself from the glass dome of her mech, tying her incredibly long hair in a messy bun, and rushing over to the fire extinguisher. “WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU!?”

“I DON’T KNOW!” The boy cries still running in circles. “WHY AM I STILL ON FIRE!”

“STOP DROP AND ROLL IDIOT!” The six-year-old orders taking the extinguisher off the wall and pointing it at Jon. Nothing happens for a few seconds before the girl shouts, “How do I use this thing!?”

“I’m rolling and I’m still on fire!” Jon screams while doing cartwheels.

“That is not what I meant when I say roll!” In a panic, the electric green-eyed girl bites her lip while bouncing on the tips of her feet slapping the circuits on her forehead. “Wait, I know!” She runs to the fire alarm and the area glows with pink light before a loud alarm sounds and water begins to pour from the ceiling from rotating sprinklers.

Damian and Colin make it to Jonathan’s side as the fire is quickly extinguished with only minor first degree burns. What hurts the child more is the metal fire extinguisher that was chucked at his gut. “Oof!”

“Why did you do that!?” Lena hollers storming up to the boys and splashing the water around her feet. “You could have killed yourself!”

“Says the person trying to kill him.” Colin counters as he checks Jon’s hands.

She’s momentarily taken aback by the comment and rubs the soaked upper arm of her blue school uniform. “I- I wasn’t trying to actually kill him! I was just trying to teach him a lesson!”

“What kind of lesson involves giant robots and using mind-control?” Damian retorts with a vicious glare.

“H-he stole my little brother!” She accuses defensively and points a finger at him. “He took Kon away from me and Daddy! It’s all his fault my family is broken now!”

“From the looks of things around us it already appears that it was dysfunctional long before this fiasco.”

“Dami.” Jon scolds as he stands back up with his wet clothing sticking to his skin as he stands over the enraged kindergartener. “I… I’m not going to lie and say I had nothing to do with Conner’s decision, but I never wanted him to go away. No one forced him to leave either. He just wanted something his family, both of them, couldn’t give him.”

“LIAR!” She screams slamming her fists against the taller boy’s chest. “I gave Kon everything! I did everything in my power to keep him happy so he wouldn’t leave, but the second you show up it’s not good enough! All of a sudden he’s talking about his other family and how cool they are and how they do stuff ours doesn’t! You made him think I wasn’t good enough to stay for!”

The strikes grew increasingly harder but Jonathan stood strong and simply let it happen, holding a hand out to stop Damian from holding her back. “Lena, it’s not your fault either.”

His gentle words don’t calm her down but the attacks become weaker though it’s not because her confidence waned. Jon doesn’t smile but his face goes soft as he takes the violent child in his arms and holds her close. “Why didn’t he stay… Why didn’t he think about me? He didn’t tell me, he just left… No one knows how I feel.”

“Maybe not but I understand how it must feel.” Jon opens up, tightening his embrace. “Conner is a sibling to both of us. I… I don’t know him like you do, but I wanted to. I really wanted him to be my big brother but he left me as well before that could happen.”

Lena chokes on a lump in her throat and begins tearing up. “You have another brother! You have another brother to lean back on! You don’t know how- how-”

“Lonely you feel?” The boy finishes for her. “I don’t know your loneliness. I’m not going to say I know exactly how you feel because only you can feel the pain you're feeling. That doesn’t mean I haven’t felt something like this before.”

“Does it stop hurting?” She wails and the hot pink light on her head flicker as she looks up at him with an expression of utter despair looking more like a small child than she has in the short time Jon has known her. “Daddy says he’ll come back but he hasn’t! It’s been over a week and he hasn’t come back! He didn’t even write me a letter! He’s having so much fun with his new friends just like how he forgot about me when you showed up! Why hasn’t he come back yet?”

“I don’t know,” Jon answers honestly, stroking her back comfortingly. “But I’m sure he hasn’t forgotten you. He might have left but that doesn’t mean he left you.”

“He did. He did leave because I wasn’t good enough for him to stay for.”

“Or your brother is a selfish idiot, just putting that out there!” Damian calls out and is met with a burning glare.

Jon might not have heat vision anymore, but that doesn’t mean he’s not feeling the heat. “Dami, I love you but can you not?”

Unperturbed by the component Lena lets out a sad little giggle at the comments as she sobs. “He’s n-not wrong. H-he  _ is  _ a selfish idiot but he was  _ my  _ selfish idiot.”

“And Conner still is,” Jon replies optimistically and a bit weary. “I mean it’s a bit rude, but he’s still your selfish idiot. All of this-” He gestures at the robots and dilapidated building being showered in water. “Wasn’t going to do anything or make you feel better.”

The four of them stay like that in silence while the youngest of them cry for a long time. Such a long time that the school day ends and Lena promises to erase all of the footage from the school of that day before releasing everyone under her control free. The harder thing to fix was the wreckage of the courtyard and building. 

The elementary schoolers, now all dressed in a new dry set of clothing, stand outside the performance arts hall that has several laser-induced holes. The tiny blond girl, slightly shivering in place, stares up at the destruction with puffy eyes and a shaky smile. “So… can anyone come up with a good cover story for this?”

Jon raises his hand like he had an answer before setting it back down. “Yeeeah, I can’t think of anything.”

“Must it even be our job to come up with something?” Damian inquiries, holding his chin. “All the non-mind-controlled students are in the basement so it wasn’t like there could possibly be any witnesses.”

“Plus it’s not that bad, right?” Colin unconfidently reassures as he gazes upon the structure. “I mean it’s… It looks a bit like swiss cheese but it’s still in one piece.”

At that moment the four of them notice black smoke rising from the back of the building before it completely falls to the ground in a smoldering blaze of glory. Damian crosses his arms and looks at the taller fifth-grader scrutinizingly. “Nice going, Wilkes. Do you perhaps have any other jinxes to bestow upon this situation?”

“...I have a question.” The boy winces at the dig. “Where did the robots come from?”

Lena turns to him with a prideful grin. “Oh, I made those with scraps from Daddy’s failed creations.”

“How?”

“She’s a Technomancer, remember?” Jon snorts at his older companion as he remembers what he said earlier.

“All technology I understand is technology I can control with little more than a touch.” She explains, untying her hair and ringing out some of the leftover freezing water in it. “And I studied my Daddy’s work ever since I was old enough to comprehend his blueprints.”

Sky blue eyes widen and he snaps his neck in her direction. “Does that mean you could take off my collar?”

Lena squints up at him then kicks him in the shin so he’ll kneel to her level and allow her to examine the collar. “This should be child’s play. I’ll do it because I owe it to you after what I tried to do.” She takes her left hand and presses it to the side of the titanium strip of metal.

“Ow! You could have asked me to bend over!” Jon whines, holding his bruised leg.

“Jonathan has enough injuries inflicted by you today,” Damian adds, pointing at the scabs and marks of purple and red all over his boyfriend.

The blonde doesn’t reply as she focuses her energy on removing Jon’s collar. After a minute of nothing happening, Lena lets go and frowns and tells them, “This isn’t my Daddy’s work. I don’t know what it is.”

“But Lex Luthor made it!” Jon exclaims holding his neck.

“That’s isn’t my Daddy’s work.” She repeats forcefully with her hands on her hips. “I don’t know what that is but it’s not Daddy’s; I can’t even find wiring or a power source. Whatever this is it’s something beyond my knowledge.”

“So I’m going to be stuck like this?” Jonathan laments with a grimace standing upright.

“I’ll look into it for you,” Lena tells him with an undeserved amount of confidence. “If Daddy did make this I’ll find out how.”

“Thanks, Lena, you’re nice.”

Damian, still looking at the wreckage of the burning building in the cold, asks the kindergartener, “Luthor, does that force field you put up hide us from the outside?”

“Yes.” She answers falteringly. “I didn’t want anyone to see this mess.”

He nods with his lips stuck in a thin line as he sauntered over to the robots the little girl parked on the courtyard. “Luthor, since you’re willing to help Jonathan get that atrocity off of him then I have the perfect cover story to hide this disaster as long as you’re not too attached to these robots.”

“What is it?” She presses as the boy takes out his phone and holds it up to her creation. Her only explanation with an immoral demented smile that reaches the edges of Damian’s cheeks.

And that’s how half the school got blown up by, “Unnamed extremist against the American education system.”

Something inside Jonathan tells him that his boyfriend has been waiting a long time to do this to the school.

“Dami-”

“Let me have this Jon, I promise I’ll make up for it later.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No one is okay in this fic but at least they're functioning... some of the time.
> 
> And finally, Damian is somewhat fulfilled with his act of extreme violence. Do not worry, no one was physically harmed in the making of this cover story but Colin definitely needs to learn how to cover his ears around an explosion.
> 
> Once again Jonathan (kind of) saved the day with the power of friendship. Lena might be... extreme but she lives in a comic book world and her father is Lex Luthor. This is clearly a learned behavior and not a good way to cope. She might have advanced intelligence and superpowers but she's still a six-year-old.
> 
> Thanks for reading!
> 
> Next Chapter: Babysitting.


	38. Broken Patches

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> How broken does something need to be before it's obvious it needs to be repaired? Jonathan doesn't know but he feels like he's getting closer to his breaking point.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heeeey, this was supposed to be a cute fun chapter about responsibility and stuff buuuuuuuut guess what bitch moved UP the Kathy chapter this time? Yeah, it's happening. This is the Kathy chapter. For those that binge this fic, cause y'all are crazy or something, this is the Kathy chapter so ya don't have to skim to find out.
> 
> I know this story isn't everyone's cup of boba tea but to those who are reading this and have given their support to my weird self-indulgent fanfic, thanks. Really, thank you.

Jonathan Samuel Kent does his best to be a good boy. He doesn’t like to see his parents disappointed in him, and he honestly feels terrible when he does break his parents’ expectations. The young boy is many things, but he never thought troublemaker to be one of them. In the past few months have proven otherwise because it’s now abundantly clear that Jonathan’s presence is a force for chaos wherever he goes.

How does Jon himself come to this conclusion? As the son of Superman and Lois Lane-Kent, it was obvious that Jonathan would never have a normal life no matter what his parents hoped. Jon thought so too to a certain extent where his life would be like the shows he watched where the second-grader lives a cool double life. Jonathan Samuel Kent, normal boy by day and a secret awesome superhero by night with all the pre-teen/teen drama to come with it once he controls his powers. It would of course take a few years to train his powers (once he finds a way to take off his collar or convince his family to take it off), but he wanted to live the awesome superhero lifestyle!

Due to recent events at school, Damian secretly blowing half of it up, classes were being held online for the foreseeable future; or at least until after winter break. It would take some time getting used to but on the plus side, Jonathan is in a bigger room with a large desk all to himself. He even gets to use Conner’s empty side of the room to play with his toys which is great because sometimes he gets too lazy to put his stuff away neatly and simply decides to throw it on his big brother’s desk.

Christopher has also been using Conner’s side of the shared room even though his parents gave the man his own room right next to Jonathan’s. Jon isn’t an expert on what it’s like being a little brother, but not even Kara is this overbearing when it comes to watching him. Then again he did accidentally get kidnapped under her care that one time, so maybe she’s not the best example of a big sister. There is also the fact that Jonathan has been deemed a trouble maker that is in constant need of supervision lest he does something crazy again like sneak out to fight crime, follow strangers, or run away to an island full of murderers. He understands why his family wants to watch him, but could they just do it at a comfortable distance? Like, not literally breathing down his neck?

“Chris, can you not stare at me while I’m doing my homework?” He demands to the older brunet sitting behind him at his desk.

Brown eyes flutter for a second before the man in question simply continues to smile at the seven-year-old and not move an inch. “Sorry, am I bothering you?”

“Kinda,” Jon tells him and scoots his rolly chair in his direction to push the man a few inches away. “You’re not even doing anything!”

Jonathan doesn’t know if his parents asked his oldest brother to do this or if Chris was doing this out of his own free will. Either way, the entire situation is annoying. He misses school because at least there his family wouldn’t be breathing watching him like a hawk. The Kryptonian rolls back almost a foot away before the back of his chair bumps into the side of the bookshelf holding up Jon’s loft bed. A thump on the wooden floor alerts the brothers to an unstable aged box that fell from one of the shelves on the other side, and the two of them walk over to clean it up.

Jon groans in frustration as he sees scattered newspapers all over the floor and kneels to pick them all up. He didn’t even know that the box had the newspapers inside as he merely tossed the box haphazardly on a shelf because he didn’t care. It’s rather nostalgic handling all of the old articles on the ground as he hasn’t given the papers any mind ever since discovering his father was Superman.

“Woah, sorry about that Jon.” Chris apologizes as he gets on the floor to help.

“Noooo, you’ll ruin them!” The child cries as he pushes his brother out of the way after seeing him shuffle the papers together in random order. “I have a system!”

The older Kent gently puts the papers down at the younger’s insistence and replies, “And what is this system? If you tell me I can help.”

“No! I’ll do it myself!”

“Jon I’m only trying to help-”

“I don’t want your help! It’s your fault it fell in the first place!”

“Jon-”

“Get out! Get out of my room you- you jerk face!” Jonathan screams in frustration as he begins to his invincible sibling’s shoulder. “I don’t want you in my room anymore! You have your own stupid room but you sleep in here! Get out of my room!”

“Hey, what’s going on up there?” Clark Kent’s voice calls out as heavy footsteps make their way up the stairs. Once he catches a glimpse of his youngest child attacking his oldest the man quickly rushes inside and pries the punching child off of the teen, who didn’t even bother to defend himself. “Jonathan! What is the meaning of this young man?”

Still thrashing in his father’s hold, Jonathan begins crying incoherent complaints while pointing at his brother. It takes a while to decipher, but the man is able to understand the gist of the rambling. “Jonathan, you stop that right now.” He commands in an authoritative tone while he sets the boy down and kneels to talk to him.

“No! I want to be left alone!” He continues saying as angry tears pour down his eyes.

“Jonathan, Jonno, I understand that, but that doesn’t give you permission to attack people.” His father explains sternly. “You’re a good boy, Jon. Do good boys hurt others?” Jon shakes his head as he sniffles. “That’s right, they don’t. Everything is very stressful for you right now and I understand that. This past week isn’t going how any of us wanted it to and there is a lot of change happening. You’ve been forced to spend a lot of time at home which is extremely stressing, however lashing out at your brother is unacceptable.” Clark turns to his older son who is beginning to stand from the floor. “And Chris, I know that we all have to keep an eye on Jon, but that doesn’t mean you have to stand over him at all times. He’s a child, not a criminal.”

“I didn’t mean to-”

“I know you didn’t.” He reassures the man he nods before turning back to the smaller boy. “Jon, I don’t like these violent outbursts I hear you’ve been having. It’s very unlike you and I know we’ve talked about it before. Now, I want both of you to apologize to each other.”

The hero grabs his sons’ shoulders and turns them so that they’re facing each other. Chris moves his large hand to pat Jonathan’s fluffy black hair then apologizes to him. “I’m sorry Jon, I should have back off when you asked me to.”

Jonathan sniffles a few more times to calm down his frustrated tears and wipes his face with the thick sleeves of his grey Superman-themed sweater. “I-I’m sorry. I shouldn’t’ve hit you. You didn’t knock down my stuff.”

“Jon,” His father starts calmly. “You shouldn’t hit him at all, even if he did knock down your newspapers.”

“I -I kn-kn-know.” He status through hiccups. “I’m sorry. I-I di-didn’t- I shouldn’t have- hitting you was bad a-and wrong.”

“Good.” The father declares patting both boys on the back. “Now, I’ll take you to the bathroom to help you wash up then we’ll get this mess cleaned up, okay?”

The boys nod then once Jon and their dad come back from the restroom with a new snot-free shirt they all begin picking up the scattered papers on the ground. Clark chuckles at one of the frontpages and holds it up to show his sons. “Superman Crashes His Own Wedding! I remember this old thing. Man, that was quite the day.”

“That’s when you fought some space lady named Maxima, right?” Jon questions as he does his best to recall the event. “Mom got that paper for me! She said she wrote it before I was born.”

“A lot of these papers were written before you were born.” He chuckles as the Man of Steel riffles through several more papers to examine the dates. “You used to collect these all the time, but I guess your Mom and I haven’t been the best at giving you more with everything that’s happened.”

“That’s okay, I don’t think I need them anymore. You can just tell me when something cool happens.” Jon smiles but it withers after seeing the dejected expression on his father’s face. “Right?”

“Right,” Clark affirms as he adjusts his glasses and puts on a small grin. “But let’s hope that’s not anytime soon. When Superman comes around that usually means something bad happened.”

Chris riffles through more papers then looks back to the bookshelf where several more unopened boxes laid piled on top of one another unevenly. “Jon, I didn’t pay much attention before but you sure do have a lot of Superman stuff. I mean, of course you do, but it’s… it’s everywhere. I know he’s your favorite superhero and our dad but-”

“I got all of this stuff before I knew Dad was Superman,” Jon confesses as he picks up another article about his father fighting Livewire and Parasite.

He blinks at Jon due to this new information, and Clark nervously chuckles while shyly scratching the back of his head. “Even without our involvement Jonno became our little Superman fanatic. He would go on and on about how amazing Superman was all the time when he was little. It was hard for me to keep a straight face most days hearin’ how great my boy thought his old man was without even realizing it.”

“I like other stuff too!” Jon frowns with an embarrassed rosy flush that reached down to his neck. “But Superman is cool!”

“It’s normal for kids to have their favorite heroes and I’m overjoyed that I’m Jon’s.” He blushes with an even wider grin. “I remember how he would beg Lois for more information about Superman. He wanted to know everything about his favorite color and what kind of music he listened to. Lois would always tell him it’s unethical to release information like that without Superman’s permission. Then there were the days one of us would come home from work after Superman had an exciting battle and Jonno would be clinging to our legs for hours until we told him about it. He even tried to follow us out the door so he could go to Metropolis in hopes of meeting Superman.”

“I once hid in the back of Dad’s truck but he found me. I didn’t know how he did it at the time, but now I know he probably used his superpowers to find me.”

“No, I didn’t need to use my powers to see your little head peeking out from the side of the truck.”

“Oh.” Jon pouts as they get the last of the newspapers organized and ordered from oldest to newest. 

Chris organizes the boxes on the bookshelf so that they wouldn’t be likely to fall over again from a light bump, and leaves the room while their father stays in the room. Jonathan continues completing his homework although he couldn’t help but feel incredibly guilty for the trouble he caused his brother. He knows better than to hit someone and he feels incredibly regretful about doing it. He thought he wouldn’t do something like that again especially to his own family. If he could do that to his sibling then what about Dami.

...Wait… He has fought Damian before. It was never serious, but at the beginning of their friendship they did use to physically fight, but Jon thought that was just play-fighting. What if Jonathan is becoming a terrible angry person? He can’t marry someone if he’s terrible! He’s walked in on enough daytime television dramas to know it never ends well! He needs to fix this.

With this information in mind, Jonathan stands from his desk, after finishing his homework because he’s a good boy, and asks his Dad if he could call Damian. Clarks was confused by the sudden request, yet didn't hesitate to take out his phone and scroll through for Wayne Manor’s number. He presses the call button and puts the phone on speaker before setting it between them so that they can both hear.

After three rings Mr. Pennyworth picks up the phone with his famous British drawl. “Hello, Wayne Manor. To whom may I be speaking to and for what purpose?”

“Hi Alfred, Jon wants to talk to Damian. Is now a good time?” Jon’s Dad politely asks the posh butler.

“Young Master Damian is currently in the middle of a playdate with Gordon’s young charge, Colin.” He fairly informs the man. “I’m sure that the young master would be delighted to speak with young Jonathan, but it will take a while to get a hold of him. They are currently at the treehouse doing gods know what with a cow they discovered from who knows where. If young Jonathan is in desperate need to get ahold of him I can give you his new cellular number.”

“I didn’t know Damian has a cellphone now. That would be great-”

“I don’t want to talk to Damian anymore; He’s busy.” Jon announces curtly as he stares at the phone with an unreadable expression.

Clark glances at his son concerningly but nods before taking the phone off speaker mode to excuse himself. Once he hands up he slouches down to Jonathan’s eye-level and puts a reassuring hand on his son’s shoulder. “Jon, Sport, what’s wrong?”

Jon doesn’t say anything as he feels an insurmountable level of unfounded rage swell up inside him. Jon didn’t know it was possible to become so enraged it ate at all his other emotions until all that was left was a cold and deathly stillness. He already did one thing he regretted and Jonathan didn’t want to do another. He knows there is no reason to be angry because Colin is one of his friends and would dare try to take his place in Damian’s life. Dami needs more friends, and the second-grader shouldn’t let his feelings get in the way of that. Just like Mrs. Queen said, he doesn’t own Damian.

It doesn’t help him feel better.

“I…” He begins to say though the burning swelling in his throat is stopping him. “I want to visit Kathy.”

Jon did not mean to say that, but he couldn’t bring himself to tell his dad how he was feeling. He already had his father upset at him for being mad and he doesn’t want to disappoint him further. If he keeps showing emotions like this he’ll never allow Jon to take this stupid collar off. He doesn’t think that he’s even ready to see his old bestie because just thinking about her and Hamilton still gives him an upset stomach. At least he demanded something his father would never agree to after what they did to him-

“Sure you can! I think that’s a great idea, Sport!” His father replies shocking Jonathan to the point he felt the world shift under his feet. “It’s getting a bit stuffy being stuck in the house all this time and a trip Hamilton might do you some good.”

Wait hold up.

“What?” Because what the heck else can Jonathan say.

“I’m going to have to call your mother about this, but if she has no problem with this then I don’t see why not,” Clark reassures, scrolling through his contacts for his wife’s. He quickly finds it and begins calling her, putting the phone on speaker as he did for Mr. Pennyworth.

It doesn’t even ring one full time before his mother picks up. “Geez Smallville, you almost gave me a heart attack!”

The thick-glasses wearing man laughs fondly saying, “I see you discovered my little surprise.”

“You change my ringtone to  Take Me Home, Country Roads! I swear if Perry give me shi-”

“Careful, Jon is listening.” Clark teases and Lois seethes through the receiver.

“You are so lucky right now, I’ll get you back for this!”

“This is already payback for when you changed my ringtone last week to  I’m Too Se … Pretty. I don’t think Jimmy will let me live it down.”

Jon could almost hear his mom roll her lavender eyes over the phone before asking, “So what’s the call for? Did you just miss me or is something up at home?”

“It’s nothing major Honey; Jon wants to go visit Kathy in Hamilton. What do you think about that?” The man inquires with a bright smile.

“Mmm,” The reporter hums thoughtfully for a second before shooting back, “Does he want to go alone, or is Chris going to be going too?”

Oh dear lord up in heaven Jonathan isn’t ready for this, but he isn’t a quitter and it’s too late to back out now. “Yes.”

His father smiles at his rather confusing answer and chooses to interpret that as allowing Chris to come as well. “I’ll take that as a yes to taking Chris along. When do you think would be a good time?”

“I’m not doing anything after work Friday; I bet I can even get home early that day.”

“You got it, Honey.” Clark agrees then holds the phone out to his son. “Jon, do you have anything to say to your mother?”

Still disoriented by the turn of events happening to him he nervously leans his mouth to the phone before quickly spewing out some words before running to the entryway. “Hi Mom, love you, thanks, bye!”

“Haha, love ya too Sweetie, bye.” His mother returns in a pleasant tone. “Bye Clark, I love you.”

“I love you too Lois, I’ll see you when you get home from work.” He makes a kissing noise much to her amusement and she reciprocates the action while Jonathan gags in the background. He hangs up and puts the smartphone in the back pocket of his jeans then walks to the next room to where Chris was sitting on his bed on his laptop, but it’s obvious that he wasn’t actually on it. The device wasn’t even turned on and he is sitting way too close to the wall between his and Jonathan’s room for it to be natural. “What do you think about visiting Hamilton County, Chris?”

Scrambling out of his bed the man tosses his technology to the side and stands up straight like a soldier. “T-that’s a great idea! It’s a bit sudden and from what I heard it's still recent. I’m sure we can wait longer if you’d like. Are you sure you’re ready for this Jon? ”

No. “Yes.” GOD DAMN IT.

“I’m proud of you, Jon.” His father declares putting a reassuring hand on the little boy’s shoulder. “We’ll back you up in any way we can.”

“Thanks, Dad.” Jon says with what appears to be a relieved grin, but on the inside, Jonathan is screaming for the sweet release of death. “I hope everything will go well.”

“I hope so too kiddo. I know that this couldn’t have been an easy decision and that you must’ve given this a lot of thought. It’s okay to be nervous, but no matter what we’ll be here. If you feel uncomfortable at any time just say the word and we’ll leave and try again another time. Or never.”

“It’s okay Dad, I can do this! I wanted to talk to Dami earlier to talk to him about it, but I have to do this on my own.” Thank you Tim for teaching Jon how to lie his butt off because holy crap he has no idea what he’s doing. How did this even get this far!? WHY IS JONATHAN LIKE THIS?! “I can’t rely on Dami for everything.” OH YES HE FREAKING CAN.

“Good for you Jonathan!” His father cheerfully exclaims and ruffles his son’s fluffy hair. “I better go pack the travel bag, I’ll make sure to fill it with your favorites. Chris, can you check the truck and make sure it’s good to go before Friday. Hamilton has plenty of dirt roads and the ol’girl hasn’t had to endure that for a hot minute. Also, Jon is getting pretty tall meaning we’re going to have to readjust the seatbelt next to his booster seat.”

“Sure thing Dad! I’ll do it right now!” Chris agrees, grabbing the extra set of keys on his nightstand and briskly making his way to the garage; giving Jon a quick head pat as he exits his room.

Jonathan is left alone in the doorway and expected to get ready within the next few days for something he’s not ready for. Okay. Okay, this is happening. Even though his dad told him he could bail any time he wants, which is now, Jon couldn’t bring himself to do so. There’s a sense of pride and guilt eating up at his soul forcing him to continue with the lie of reconciliation rather than face his unfounded jealousy issues.

He needs to talk to his therapist about this but today is not that day.

Jon walks to his room and climbs up the ladder to his bed where he immediately lays face down on his bed and releases the longest sigh he could muster. Without looking he slaps his palm to the plushie Damian doll he keeps next to his pillow and hugs it to his chest. If he can’t hug his Dami then Better Dami will have to do for now. And no he will not change that name. He’s not still mad at Damian but he’s been calling the toy Better Dami for so long it’s now permanent.

He’s still grounded from the treehouse for another week, and while that’s happening his freaking boyfriend is out there having fun with people who aren’t him! He knows there’s nothing wrong with that, honestly, he knows he should be encouraging it, he has been encouraging it, but it hurts. Damian has a life without Jon and that’s fine. Jon has a life apart from Damian too so it’s fair. He goes out and plays with friends who aren’t Damian at recess and... that’s it. He doesn’t really hang out with any of his other friends outside of school, not even Colin.

Jonathan hasn’t built any friendships on the level he used to have like the ones he had in Hamilton. All he had was his family and Damian. Sure there were other people in his life, but for the most part, these were the only constants. Maybe this will be good for him. Jonathan remembers that Kathy seemed really sorry when he last saw her. Everything will be fine. Just fine and dandy.

Lying to himself is not working like he hoped it would.

Days after doing absolutely freaking nothing to prepare himself emotionally for the hole he dug himself into, Jonathan finds himself in the car next to his brother and behind his mother in the family truck. The child holds his Damian doll close to his chest as he faces forward with an expression completely devoid of any emotion other than stress. His mother turns around and hands Jonathan a fruit punch box with a reassuring smile.

“Jon, you know you don’t have to do this, right?” Lois tells him in a soothing voice. “We could turn around and have a family picnic instead. No one will think less of you if now is not the right time.”

“It’s okay Mom! Just nerves, ya know?” AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHH! “I’ll be better soon!” No he won’t.

“If you say so.” She shrugs before opening her juice box and taking several sips. “These things used to have more juice in them. I think the juice company is ripping us off.”

Clark laughs at his wife’s conclusions and says, “Guess we gotta tell the presses, oh wait- we are the press.”

“You know, you say that but I’m honestly contemplating doing my diligence as an investigative reporter.” She chuckles and playfully throws the empty container at her husband’s arm then goes to grab another one. “Says here they’re produced in Gotham of all places. Think I can get Bruce to wage war on the juice box company for me?”

“You’re enough of a driving force on your own, Honey.”

“I know I am.”

The three-hour car ride to Hamilton County was the fourth worst thing to have ever happened to Jonathan in his entire life. He’s had stab wounds that hurt less than the imminent possible reconciliation with his ex-best friend who spent her entire life conspiring against Jon’s health and wellbeing. Jonathan hasn’t thought about what happened to him for long after that first excruciating week of crippling loneliness.

He remembers the feeling of betrayal consuming him, how he didn’t even have a moment to brace himself for the news his entire life was a lie. The seemingly never-ending abyss dragged him down into a dark place where he felt as though no escape remained. There was no closure for him as he was once again shielded from the pain by his family leaving him desolate and wondering why. Jon had a hole in his mind where the happy memories of his home soured and decayed into something he didn’t recognize; something wicked. Each bright smile, every beautiful day, all the pleasant scenery, and the kind people were none of those things anymore. They were now villains that tried to hurt him; the first of many people who dedicated part of their existence to make Jonathan miserable in an ever-increasing list.

Then he remembers seeing Damian again after the truly awful emotional spiral he went through alone. He can see it clearly like it was happening right before his eyes all over again. With raven hair billowing in the wind, his finely pressed uniform rustling against his toned body as he saunters towards him, and those mesmerizing shiny emerald green eyes that compliment the tan-sun kissed skin on his listless complexion. It was the breath of familiarity that saved him from giving up. Sure his graciousness was immediately met by an attempted punch to the face, but he didn’t go through with it and just slapped him really hard with the back of his hand. That’s an improvement!

He made Jon feel something! Jon knows that Damian never had the best intentions back then and that any kindness he showed came with strings attached, but… Where was Jon going with his? Oh yeah, Jon knew that if he just gave Damian all of his love that there was a slim chance they could be friends, real friends, and not the fake ones that betrayed him. And he was right so there is no reciprocation for his train of thought and he refuses to hear otherwise!

Jonathan adjusts himself in his booster seat then squeezes the plushie in his arms to release the tightness in his muscles from stress, and squeezes all of the juice in his juice box into his mouth in one swift motion. He’s got this, he can do this! This was his choice and Jon won’t back out now! He doesn’t know why he chose this instead of ignoring his best friend/ boyfriend, but this is going to be the hill Jon dies on!

“I CAN DO THIS!” He screams at the top of his lungs with both of his arms up in the air.

The sound of the car door opening snaps him out of his stupor and the seven-year-old notices his parents and bother leaving their respective sides of the truck. Chris unbuckles his seatbelt with a light chuckle and an affectionate head pat telling him, “I’m glad you do. Let’s keep up that confidence!”

“Huh?” Jon blurts out, almost dropping the toy in his arms out of shock. Sky-blue eyes glance around the outside of the truck where he the scent of freshly cut crop and the dining of cattle hit him like a car; Jon would know, he’s been hit before. He can’t bring himself to look at the dairy farm he knows is directly in front of him, so the boy turns his head and is immediately filled with regret. “Is that-”

He couldn’t finish the sentence as the heavy words became stuck in his throat. They tried to escape but it was useless. Before him on what should have been a rural well lived-in farmhouse surrounded by an idyllic white-picket-fence was a plot of scorched earth. The second the older Kent sibling sets Jonathan’s feet onto the ground he’s sprinting off into the dead grass of winter ignoring the shouts for him to slow down from behind. He dashes onto barren land that once had a picture barn built upon it, through the place that housed all of the chickens Jonathan hasn’t given thought to, and onto the area that once laid a porch that comfortably welcomed people into a home that doesn’t exist anymore.

Jon drops to his knees in the spot that used to be his living room, staining his freshly washed jeans brown with cold dirt, and digs his stubby fingernails into the plush of the doll in his hands. He lets in an unstable breath before releasing it as a broking wail through a crooked smile. All of the false confidence he built within himself shattering at the first sign of facing the reality he’s been so desperately trying to ignore all this time. The thing he didn’t want to admit to himself ever since his old life was taken from him:

He was never going to be the happy carefree child he once was.

Jonathan Samuel Kent, the cheerful innocent boy living the all American dream was dead. That boy never truly existed and he will never be able to ever again. There was still a small part of him that tried to hide the pain he was feeling in his heart, a part of him that wanted to move on from the complete destruction of his childhood, but even Jon couldn’t protect him from all the bad things in his life. His parents couldn’t, Damian couldn’t, so why did he even try? God, he’s so broken inside.

“Jon,” He hears his father say softly behind him and put a firm hand on his shoulder.

“Did they do this?” He asks in return as evenly as he possibly could. He doesn’t feel tears roll down his cheeks which is a good sign he still has some semblance of control over the situation. “Did they destroy our home?”

Clark Kent sighs and reveals, “No, no one in Hamilton did this. I did this, I did this to protect you. We didn’t- There was a battle and I didn’t have enough time to safely dismantle everything.”

“You burned it to the ground.” Jon asserts as he gets to his feet and impassionately brushes off the dirt with one hand.

“I did, but I made sure to save all the stuff that made our home, home.” Jon’s father tries to comfort, but his son doesn’t acknowledge the attempt, merely allowing it to happen. “You don’t have to-”

He doesn’t listen to his dad and interrupts his speech by turning heel and heading towards the dairy farm, something he couldn’t help but notice appears untouched. A twinge of resentment he harbors against his old life creeps up and begins overtaking his heart before Jon brutally shuts it down. Jonathan refuses to allow his rage to cloud his judgment more than it already has today. He can’t control his emotions, but he can rein in his actions and choose to take the higher path of forgiveness. It’s difficult, the choice has always been difficult, but he will always choose to forgive.

Jonathan was always going to forgive Kathy, forgive Hamilton, yet he didn’t expect that time to come so soon. He thought he would have more time, however, Jon should know better than to have expectations by now. His mother and eldest brother stood next to the scarlet truck, watching his every move intently, and he brushes past them in favor of walking up the unfinished wood of the small one-story home with the delicate red-roof he used to be so familiar with. It was almost cruel, but Jonathan had a piece of mind to ask Mr. Cobb if Kathy was able to play for old times’ sake. There wouldn’t be an ounce of fondness in those previously instinctual words, but he guesses it’s the thought that counts.

The door opens to reveal a portly old man in a red and white striped shirt and work denim overalls. His small eyes were hidden behind large reflective lenses that were pointed far above Jonathan’s head as he searched for the people who were not Jonathan. The white-haired man waves to Jonathan’s parents yet is interrupted by a forced cough from the little boy directly in front of him. 

“Jonathan…” The man breathes and looks as though he wants to say something, to tell Jon so many things, but the second-grader won’t hear it. 

Jonathan doesn’t bother to know the conflicted expression on Farmer Branden’s face and asks, “Hi Mr. Cobb, is Kathy home?”

The dairy farmer blinks at Jon and has to take a step back to fully examine the child he once tried to hurt. “Look, Jonathan, your parents and I have talked about this day for a while. We were expecting it, but it’s still rather sudden. Let’s give Kathy a few more minutes to compose herself-”

Jon merely ignores him because how DARE she. THE SHEER AUDACITY! That jerk had no problem trying to force Jonathan to talk when it was on her terms, but when he tries to do it she suddenly has an issue?! “That’s okay! I’ll wait for her!” He chirps with a bright grin, bouncing on the balls of his feet. “I can’t wait to see her again!”

He playfully hops down the few steps from the porch to the driveways, and past his family, who were heading towards the house, to jump into the back seat of the pick-up to promptly scream his head off into the seat cushion. “AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRGGGGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHHHH!”

“Jon, you okay there little buddy?” Chris calls out hesitantly as he walks back to him along with their parents. “You don’t have to-”

“ **I KNOW** . I CAN DO THIS CHRIS SO YOU CAN SHUT IT!” Jon takes in a deep breath before continuing to express his self-destructive agony until his face becomes red with oxygen deprivation. “AAAAAAAAARRRRRRGGGGHHHH!”

He’s quickly lifted from behind by strong arms and hugged tight, restricting his world to one secluded place rather than an endless horizon of Jonathan’s volatile emotions. He was being squeezed and Jonathan didn’t understand that his family decided to give him the snuggest group hug they could muster at this very moment. It’s nice, don’t get him wrong, but he doesn’t understand why. Are they trying to make him feel better? Jon stops his outburst and goes limp to try and gauge his emotions, deciding that he does kinda feel better. He doesn’t feel good but he feels better.

Hugs make everything better.

“We’ll do this later, I don’t think this was a good idea.” Jon hears his father tell Farmer Cobb, causing him to feel ashamed of himself. He couldn’t even keep it together long enough to see his ex-bestie.

Farmer Cobb sighs understandingly as he looks back to the wooden house with the door still wide open and nods. “I understand. It’s only been a few months, but for what it’s worth Jonathan none of this was Kathy’s fault. She was only doing what she was told was right, what we told her was right. If you should be crossed with anyone it should be me.”

“Don’t say that; you were lied to-” Jon’s mother begins to comfort but the man shakes his head.

“No Lois, it’s true. I’m the adult in her life and I should have known better than to ever involve a child in any of this. She didn’t know better and although we were misled we still went along with obviously harmful actions and I’ll take the responsibility for that.” He tells them forlornly while standing up tall.

Jonathan exhales deeply, releasing the tension still inside him and repressing the resentment he still harbors, before squirming like a wiggly worm in the shared grip of his family. They don’t let him go, but they do set him on the ground. He takes in a confident breath and reminds himself that he’s a good boy. Good boys don’t act like this. “Mom, Dad, lemme go. I’m okay now!”

“Jonathan-” His father tries to say but his youngest son quickly interrupts him.

“No, I’m fine! I know I’m fine!”

Lois brushes strands of ebony hair from her son’s fair forehead and kisses it lovingly. “Jon, Sweetheart, you’re forcing yourself. You’re not ready.”

“That’s not your choice, it’s mine! It’s my feelings and my decision! You don’t get to tell me I’m not ready because if you did then I’ll never be ready!” Jon knows he’s not ready, that this was a mistake, but he’ll be damned if he won’t make this  _ his  _ choice. If this was a mistake this was going to be  _ his  _ mistake!

“Jonathan!” His father gasps.

“Wait!” A high-pitched voice cries out and the group sees a bare-footed girl with straw-colored hair sprint out from the house. “Wait! I’m ready! We can talk now!”

Chris holds Jonathan back from going to the little pigtailed girl while trying to talk him down. “As your family, we want what’s best for you. That included pointing out when things are going too far. We’re not going to have another Damian mess-”

Mess… Mess!? “ **_MESS_ ** !?” Jon shouts, pushing himself away from his older brother’s grip and snapping his neck back at the brunette. “You of all people don’t get to tell me what a mess is!”

“Jon, wha-”

“You can’t come back into my life and pretend that everything is okay! You don’t get to come back after years of not being there for me and screwing off in your little bottle town playing hero with a girl that doesn’t exist anymore, Chris!” The child screams pushing his stunned brother’s arms off of him. “You don’t get to talk to me like your my dad because you’re not! I’m not going to be your replacement! I’m not going to be your second chance to make things right when you should have been there from the beginning!”

Brown eyes widen as he tries to snatch his sibling back into his arms. “A-are you having another vision? That can’t be- I made sure-”

Jonathan dodges his attempt and marches over to his shorter friend with a glare that could kill. “You want to talk, so let’s go talk.” He orders, taking her hand and pulling the confused girl along inside the house without being invited inside. It was at that moment Jonathan remembers he didn’t have a defined plan for how this was going to go.

Noticing this, Kathy switches places with Jon and leads him down the hallway to her room. It was exactly how Jonathan remembers it from the humble handmade cedar bed frame to the muddy pink carpet with dark rubber boots soiling its fibers. Jonathan sits himself down on a rickety rocking chair positioned in the corner of the room and glances at the faded painted white walls of the chamber.

It was like nothing had changed.

He felt it almost unfair that time passed on without him, that his old home town seemingly moved on as if what happened didn’t happen at all… now that Jonathan thinks about it, he’s not exactly sure what happened. All he knew was the pain.

“I… Jon, I know- I dunno what to say other than I’m sorry.” Kathy says and the young boy takes this time to look at her, to really try and see Kathy for the first time like he was meeting a stranger for the first time.

That’s technically what she is to him now, isn’t it? The human girl who wasn’t more complicated than what he believed his life was before finding out the truth never existed. “Why?” Jonathan chokes out weakly feeling his confusion and resentment morph back into that raw solitude he wanted so desperately to get rid of crawling back. He doesn’t know what he’s asking for, but he wants something, he needs something that isn’t tangible.

Grassy eyes shadow themselves and the young girl clutches the end of her orange sweater nervously, unsure of what to say, unsure of what Jonathan wanted from her. Then her peach-colored skin fades into the same shade of green as her eyes shocking the other second-grader to no end. Even her lightly tanned freckles darkened to a deep pine color. He knew that Kathy wasn’t a normal person from the information provided to him in the past, yet this was something he wouldn’t have ever guessed. “I’m… not from earth.”

Okay… Okay, that explains absolutely freaking nothing. “What does that have to do with you working as a supervillain trying to poison me?”

“He wasn’t- I mean he did, but that’s not what we thought would happen!” She argues before promptly slinking back into herself, wrapping her arms around herself self-consciously. “We… I was really little; I don’t remember much but I was told everything. Before Hamilton, I lived on a doomed planet. We were being hunted down by an enemy, but we didn’t know they were our enemy. Someone, a man named Manchester Black warned our people we were being hunted down. We didn’t listen and then the bad people, the Kroog, killed my parents; killed lots of my people. Black promised to keep us safe if we did as he was told! He wanted us to make you, Jon, happy and strong. He told us Superman would never be strong enough to keep the world safe! That what we were doing to you was to make you strong and help you understand what to do when the time came. I’m sorry, I’m so sorry...”

What the heck is Jonathan supposed to say to that? How is he supposed to respond to Kathy, who is outright whimpering at this very second, when he’s not sure how to even feel. Jon rocks back and forth a few times in the chair before shattering the invisible barrier between them by crossing the threshold and sitting next to her. “I’m… I’m sorry that happened to you.”

“Why- why are you apologizing to me, I’m the one who-”

“Stop.” Jon sighs and it’s now that he feels his body become weary. “Just stop.” Her lip trembles and the half-Kryptonian instantly comforts her. “That’s not what I meant! I meant to stop apologizing. I’m… I’m mad at you, sure, but this isn’t your fault. That villain lied to you and you lied to me. That’s what happened and apologies won’t change that, but I understand it. That’s not what…” He groans and flops backward onto his back to stare at the dull ceiling. “I’m glad that you’re sorry about that, but what hurts more is that I don’t know you.”

“I-I told you who I am and we spent most of our life together-” The blonde rushes to say only to be interrupted again.

“Kathy, if that even is your real name because that doesn’t sound like a cool alien name, I don’t know you. The Kathy I knew was a normal girl who punches bullies and hates fried okra. You are not her. She was never real and I can’t get her back because she only exists in my memories. All I knew was that I woke up one day to have my entire life turned upside down and I was left to be told my bestie wasn’t real!”

Jon watches the green-skinned girl shake for a second before sighing and flopping down next to him. “You’re right. The Kathy you know had human skin and no powers. I’m not that Kathy, but I’m still Kathy. I hid a lot from you but I never hid me. Almost all of the stuff you knew about me is still true. I still hate okra.”

“You knew that Superman was my Dad.”

“I did.” She confirms and turns on her side to look at her old friend. “And I’m sorry.” A sickly light feeling raises in his chest and Jon begins to chuckle before it turns into outright hysterical laughter. The cruel humorous noise lingers on long enough to be disturbing and unforgettable before it breaks down and devolves into gut-wrenching blubbering sobs. “Jon?”

“Kathy-” He wails and the farmer girl sees hot tears pour uncontrollably down his face. “Kathy I’m so tired. I- being back here hurts so much! It hurts so  _ so  _ much and I can’t… I don’t even know what I wanted from this! I didn’t really want to come here and listen to you say sorry because I already knew you were! I was forcing myself to be angry and holding onto being hurt, but I don’t even know why! I wanted to be mad at something- anything other than- I already forgave you but- I know you didn’t do anything wrong! We’re kids, we’re only-”

Kathy carefully rolls out of bed and lifts Jonathan’s feet onto her mattress then pulls the rocking chair closer to be right next to Jon. She plops herself down on the chair and pats his leg, something she used to do when he needed to cry. Just like that Jonathan breaks down even further. His old companion sits herself down on the chair with a compassionate expression. “I figured after I saw you out in the driveway. You’re such a stubborn butt-head that can’t hold a serious grudge to save your life. Why are you here?”

It was as if the Kathy he missed so much, the Kathy he remembers was back and they immediately fell back into their old places. “I-” He strangles out through a constricted throat. “Dami-”

“What about Damian?” He presses threateningly, but it wasn’t directed at him per-say. “I swear if he did something to you I’ll throw him into the moon.”

“Please don’t throw my boyfriend into the moon.” He pleads with an honest small giggle at the image of Damian being yeeted into the moon.

“Boyfriend? Wow, Jon, I knew you were passionate about him with how much you used to gag about him, but I didn’t think it was like… a like-like thing.”

“I  **_like-like-like_ ** him.” He emphasizes with his face pressed against the bedsheets.

“Oh my gosh… that’s like… triple likes. You must be serious.” She breaths in disbelief at the gravity of the situation. “It’s not just a like-like, but a like-like-like.”

“It might even be a like-like-like-like, but that’s not what made me come here.” He sighs as he readjusts himself until he’s laying vertically on the bed. “I… I can’t- All this time I’ve only been getting worse. My life sucks and I feel awful all the time! I constantly feel like I have to keep everything to myself and I can’t tell anyone because I don’t want to be a bother even though I know they wouldn’t mind. My family wants me to talk to them and I have a therapist who wants me to tell them everything, but they’re adults! I’m not close enough to my new friends to be comfortable enough to tell them how I always want to curl up in a ball and cry randomly when things are okay because I’m just waiting for life to go wrong. I can’t tell Dami because he’s already been through so much that I feel like bothering him with my problems will make him worse even though I know he wants to help me. I can’t complain about anything to him because whatever I’m feeling I know Damian has had it so much harder.”

“You didn’t have someone to talk about stuff like we used to.” Kathy clarifies after taking a short breath through her nose.”I dunno how to say this Jon, but if you can’t tell the guy you like-like-like then who can you tell?”

“I know!” Jon groans between sniffles, getting his gross snot all over Kathy’s white bedsheets. “What’s even worse is that I get jealous and feel bad things when he’s giving other people who are not me attention! I know it’s not good but it hurts! How the heck am I supposed to bring that up to him? I don’t want him to stop trying to make friends just because I’m a butt! And then there are people always trying to kill me! Every time I meet someone new the first thing I think about is how they might want to kill me or is working with some kind of supervillain! I’m getting serious trust issues here, Kathy!”

She snorts at that although it’s not a funny noise due to the subject matter. “I guess I didn’t help with that; I was the first.”

“No, but you weren’t the only one! I’m still waiting for that Felicity lady to come back and try to murder me one day!”

“I don’t know who that is.”

“And then there was that random old guy with the eyepatch and the ninja sword-”

“You’re losing me, Jonny.”

“And I have no idea where Dami’s mom is but I’m pretty sure I’m on the hit list now! I had to look that up and I do not trust Google anymore!”

“Jon, Jonno, Jonny boy-”

“I also gave the Justice League a drawing of a dangerous machine and I swear if they try to make that thing it’s going to kill everyone so they’re on my list now which is completely my fault-”

“JONATHAN SAMUEL KENT!” Kathy hollers, stopping Jonathan’s ramblings. Jon immediately halts and the only sound between the two strained friends is the sound of the occasional smothered hiccup from the younger yet taller boy on the bed. The green girl swings widely in the chair before shooting out onto the carpeted floor standing confidently with her fist on her hips. Bare feet twirl on the dirty rug until Jon is able to see the girls blinding toothy smile. “We’ve both been through  **A LOT** meaning we’re not the same people we both used to know. Come on, stand up.”

Reluctantly Jon gets to his feet and tries to clean up his repugnant face with the back of his hands but they’re both taken into Kathy’s, who doesn’t seem to mind the revolting fluids touching her skin. If anything it looks as though she welcomes it. Kathy pivots around on her toes and sways their arms together then takes in a deep breath before leaning up close to Jonathan’s still teary face. “Hi! I’m Kathy Branden! I’m from a far-off galaxy and can move stuff and read people’s thoughts with my mind! I live with my grandpa on a dairy farm where we raise dairy cows that make the cheese in our town of Hamilton! I have green skin, blonde hair, and I hate stupid silly boys who think they’re better than me. I used to work for a stupid dumb supervillain but now I don’t. My favorite color is pink and I don’t care if it's a girly color because I like what I want to like no matter what people tell me. What’s your name?”

Sky-blue eyes blink at the perplexing declaration of stuff he already knows and is only able to stutter out a pathetic, “Uh… I know?”

She rolls her eyes and tries again. “Well Mister ‘I Know’, if that’s how you want to be called I’m not going to argue but-”

“My name is- I- Hi!” He forces rapidly at her teasing. “Hi! I’m Jonathan Samuel Kent and- not- but you can call me Jon because that’s too long. I um… I used to live in Hamilton County, but my family moved. My Dad is Superman and my mom is an investigative reporter! I have two older brothers I don’t know much about, but I’m working on that. I used to have power, but now I don’t because my dad put a collar on me.” Kathy nods and urges him to keep going. “I can’t have milk anymore, but I’m not allergic! My favorite color used to be blue but now it’s emerald green because it’s the color of my boyfriend’s eyes! I haven’t told him yet but I want to! I’m… I’m also not okay! People are always trying to do things for me and I want to do stuff for them, but I’m so freaking not okay!”

“I’m not okay either!” The freckled girl squeals in delight and her spirit is utterly contagious. “I’m not okay! My parents are dead!  _ D-E-A-D _ and I’m forced to hide myself every day! I have to hide my powers, but I love using them! I love not having to stand up to pick up the remote and being the best at the guess-my-favorite-color game! I know it’s cheating but I don’t care! It feels so good not having to repress my powers to please others!”

“I wish I could do that! I used to run into walls because it wouldn’t hurt! I almost broke the glass door of my apartment patio because I ran into it so many times when I was bored! I can crush mountains with my bare hands and heat up soup with my eyes! I used to use superhearing on my boyfriend’s heartbeat even though my parents told me it was, ‘creepy’ and ‘an invasion of his privacy’ but it was the only thing keeping me sane some days! I didn’t have to think about how lonely I always felt or how weird my life was when I did that!” Jon shouts excitedly as he suddenly feels free for the first time in who knows how long. “I try to be a good boy all the time because everyone, and I mean EVERYONE, always tells me I’m one but I’m not! I don’t feel like a good person!”

“My grandpa tells me that I shouldn’t feel responsible for what happened because I’m a kid and didn’t know better!” Kathy returns with the same energy. “But I do because I still know it was bad! I still feel guilty, and telling me I shouldn’t doesn’t make that go away! You can’t choose how I should feel! These are my emotions!”

Jonathan gasps and squeezes the girl’s hands tighter because holy crap! “What is up with that!? Why do grown-ups keep doing that? Just let me feel; I don’t want your excuses! I’m a kid, not stupid! I can see when stuff is happening around me! Stop trying to hide stuff and let me in on it! It’s not hard!”

“It really isn’t hard!” She agrees.

The two stare at each other during a brief respite and hurl themselves into each other’s arms, burying their faces into one another’s shoulders in twin fits of upbeat merriment. Jon spins the shorter girl in a circle, literally sweeping her off her feet, and Kathy holds him tighter with a joyous shriek. They both missed this. They both needed this.

“Hahahaha! Kathy! Kathy, Kathy, Kathy, Kathy! I haven’t said your name so much in forever!”

“Jon! Hahaha! Jon you dumb lump of butter, is this really the best you can lift me?” She insults, kicking her dangling legs. “My toes can still touch the floor! You’re letting yourself go city boy!”

“I am not a city boy!” He fights back, gathering all of the strength in his twig-like seven-year-old arms, and lifts her higher, spinning her faster. “Take it back!”

“City boy! Ciiiiiiiiiiity boooooy!” She repeats in a mocking tone. “A weak little city boy who can’t tell apart a bull from a cow!”

“Oh my gosh, you suck so much!” Jonathan wheezes and he piledrives them onto the bed. “Why are we even friends!”

“Are we friends?” Kathy asks, panting heavily from laughing so hard.

Jon sits up from the bed and examines the green telepath, his familiar rough blonde hair staring up at him, imploring him with her large grass colored eyes. She was so desperately anticipating his answer and Jonathan couldn’t help but snort as he lightly taps her shoulder with the back of his knuckles. “Of course we are. I’m… I’m not over what happened, but we’re friends. It won’t be the same as before, but we can work on it.”

Kathy breathes and sits up beside him while hugging him from the side with one arm. “It’s not gonna be easy. We have so much to catch up on, but we can get through this. Like I always say: As long as we have trust, love, and fun we can do anything.”

Jon is inclined to agree.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Imagine all of the adults in the living room trying to have small talk while their second-grade kids start screaming about killing and dead parents with the same enthusiasm as though they were going to Disney World.
> 
> Thank you all as always for reading and I'm really sorry about the grammar errors. I am my own beta because I wouldn't wish my sporadic writing and inconsistent schedule on anyone. I usually put this in the top note but I'm putting it here. Just cause it's 3AM and I have lost control of my life. I just finished all of my midterms. Yay.
> 
> About this chapter: Jonathan's feelings in this chapter are inconsistent, nonsensical, and chaotic. I don't blame him, look at all the suffering I put him through. You might have noticed that it's odd Kathy wasn't ever introduce earlier in the fic (or not cause this is just me talking to myself). That was planned because originally the Kathy chapter was going to be from Damian's POV of all things. It was this whole thing about who he wouldn't understand her or her relation to Jonathan due to only ever hearing about her. I didn't go with that because the chapter wouldn't make any sense that way anymore due to the development of the characters at this point. It might have made sense if I put this chapter 100k words earlier... but I didn't so now I feel like it's an odd decision. Oh well, can't change it now. I hope I did Kathy right.
> 
> On another note, just ta screw with your minds, wonder what Damian and Colin are doing? 🙂
> 
> Also, just to point this out, I write the parents' interactions from the parents' pov. Imagine if your nuke of a child did half the crap on did? I'd honestly do some of what they'd do. I'm not saying it would be right cause I sure as heck don't have kids, but it's just how I decide to write. I never said these parents were perfect, but they're good even if their actions aren't always.
> 
> ... I can't think of a short way to say this and my track record to sticking to my word is a solid 80% so... I'll just go ahead and say it. I make no promise though. Next Chapter: Jonathan and Timothy have a much-needed confrontation.


	39. Down the Rabbit Hole (Part 1)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The life of Tim Drake has taken a turn for the worse when his absent parents completely abandon him. This causes him and his perception of reality to begin to spiral down a rabbit hole of epic proportions only to come a head when he meets one Jonathan Samuel Kent.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for not updating for so lone, I got really busy with school and it looks like it's gonna be like that for a while. I'll make sure to set aside time for writing but it'll take a while before I'm back at full force! Sorry for grammar errors, thank you for reading, leave comments/kudos, and I hope y'all like it!

Timothy Jackson Drake prided himself on being the calm Robin, the calculated Robin, the smart Robin. That isn’t to say that the other Robins before him failed to display any of those qualities, but Tim made it his virtue. He vowed to be the perfect Robin for Batman because that is what he promised him all those years ago when he took his oath. Being Robin would be different. Being Robin wouldn’t be like being Tim Drake. Those were two separate lives that he refused to let cross paths because he doesn’t want to taint the symbol of Robin with the filth of his normal life.

By day Timothy Jackson Drake is the heir to Drake industries who excels in all of his academic activities. By nightfall, he is Robin, the boy wonder; the second half of the dynamic duo. It was a surprisingly simple life for a vigilante, and the fact his parents shipped him off to Gotham Academy boarding school once he was old enough to tie his shoes helped his transition quite a bit. He had no personal attachments holding him back from either of his lives and could put his everything into helping Batman. 

Everything was perfect.

At least it was supposed to be. Everything was supposed to be perfect. He was doing so well, but why… What did Tim do wrong? The young teen did his best to keep his world together despite the occasional hurdle. Why is everything collapsing around him?

“Timothy, can you please answer the question?” Officer Montoya urges the young twelve-year-old boy in an interrogation room that is more suited to be a kindergarten classroom than a place for important questioning.

“I- I’m sorry,” The teen stutters in a premeditated tone as he attaches a small quiver to the end of his voice. “I must’ve heard you wrong. Can you please repeat that officer?”

The Hispanic woman sighs as she runs her hand over the top of her tightly tied hair then looks to her red-headed partner beside her. “Wilkes, can you get me a coffee and a cup of water for the young man here?”

“Sure thing!” The younger officer nods, and he walks out of the room leaving the two of them alone. 

The policewoman waits another moment before repeating her previous question. “Timothy, have your parents ever laid their hands on you in any way?”

Hundreds of possible answers run through his head as the young boy did his best to come up with a solution for his current predicament. Did he not cover up that bruise from Bane and a neighbor thought his parents were beating him? Was someone spreading lies about his parents? Is Batman testing him? What happened to bring Tim to this very moment where the cops were questioning him on child abuse? His mom and dad are going to be so cross with him for putting them in this situation, he just knows it.

“No officer, my parents never laid their hands on me.” That would require them to be around, but Tim doesn’t say that part aloud.

Officer Montoya nods and shuffles a few papers in a file around as officer Wilkes reenters the room with two styrofoam cups in hand and places one in front of Timothy. The woman takes a sip of coffee from her own cup before looking back up at Tim. “On December 4th you were sent to the hospital after your dorm at Gotham Academy was attacked by Mr. Freeze. The injuries you suffered were minor, but it was reported that your parents weren’t able to pick you up.”

“They were out of the country for a work trip.” Timothy calmly explains as he takes a sip of water to clear his dry throat.

“Yes, we are aware of that,” She reassures holding a piece of paper with a list of bullet points on it. “January 21st, you sprained your ankle and your parents didn’t come to pick you up, January 30th, an explosion at Gotham Academy caused the school to be evacuated and your parents failed to show. February 14th, Poison Ivy attacked the Gotham botanical guardian and your parents failed to show. March 7th, March 28th, April 1st, April 20th, April 29th, May 5th, May 31st, June 6th, June 15th, June 23rd, and July 9th. All similar situations and yet each of those events you say that your parents are on a work trip.”

“Are you saying I’m lying?” Tim accuses in a reserved manner. “If anything this says more about the safety of Gotham rather than the quality of my family.”

“No one is calling you here a liar Tim.” The ginger officer comforts in a relaxed tone and a reassuring smile. “We’re simply worried for you, but if nothing is wrong and this is all a big misunderstanding then you got nothing to worry about.”

Timothy couldn’t afford to have the police watching him like a hawk because that would make him a liability not only to his parents but to Batman as well. He can’t afford to be seen as anything less than perfect. “I-”

“Timothy, before you say anything else I think you should know that lying to the police won’t do anyone any good, especially yourself.” The female officer states casually as she closes the manilla folder. “When was the last time you saw your parents?”

That’s an easy one. “I saw them yesterday at the airport.” They left earlier that morning because they needed a vacation after their stressful business trip in Turkey and booked a flight to Fiji the moment they got home.

“I see, and do you know when they’ll be home?”

“In two weeks, but the housekeeper is taking care of me in the meantime so it’s not like I’ll be left alone.” He elaborates with a practiced sincere smile.

“So they left yesterday and will be coming home in two weeks. According to our sources, they came back to Gotham not even two days ago.” Officer Wilkes affirms as he takes a deep breath and is obviously perturbed by these facts. “Did they at least celebrate your birthday?”

Birthday? Both cops’ eyes widen and so does his own blue eyes as he realizes that he asked that aloud.

“Tim,” The male policeman says in a firm and concerned nature. “Today is July 19th. It’s your birthday; you’re now thirteen.”

“I-...” And what the heck is he supposed to say to that? The newly minted thirteen-year-old runs his thin hand through his short hair in a panic because he made a mistake. How could he forget his own birthday? This doesn’t look good for his parents, what is he going to do?

A knock on the door alerts them to another officer at the door, and all three occupants in the brightly decorated room turn their heads to see another uniformed officer open the door with all the color drained from his face. The man wipes his brow with the dark blue sleeve of his shirt and nervously addresses his colleges. “Montoya, Wilkes, sorry to interrupt but… Um… Timothy Drake’s… Timothy’s… I don’t know how to say this-”

“Officer, spit it out,” Montoya commands with an authority far beyond her rank.

“R-Right!” The poor officer forces with a stiff posture and pushes the door out further to reveal Bruce Wayne behind the man in a pressed black business suit and a serious expression cast upon his face.

The blood in Timothy’s body runs cold at the sight and he internally panics as he ponders why his mentor is at the door. He’s going to bench Tim! Tim messed and now Bruce knows and will stop him from being Robin! Why else would he be at the police station?

“Mr. Wayne is here to pick up Timothy.”

“Under what authority-” The woman begins to argue when Commissioner Gordon and a man in business casual clothing come into view from behind Mr. Wayne.

“My authority, Officer Montoya.” The mystery man instructs as he reaches into his pocket and hands both of the officers in the room his card. Tim sneaks a peek at it as the man passes by to discover that he was a social worker.

A social worker.

“Mr. Wayne is already a registered foster parent with the system and this case is our business.”

“Tim.” The billionaire calls and instantly the young teen standing by his side. The commissioner gives the man the nod and he takes the child by the shoulder to lead him out of the precinct. They push past the double doors where Alfred stood with the town car door held open for the two of them.

“Good evening Mister Timothy.” He greets as the lean male hops into the back.

The boy expected the door to close right away but to his surprise, Mr. Wayne moved in to sit next to him. Once the doors were closed and Alfred was at the wheel did Tim feel comfortable enough to speak about what just occurred. “Mr. Wayne-”

“Tim, you can just call me Bruce.” The man insists with a genuine smile that throws the teen off balance. He’s… Now that Tim thinks about it he’s never seen Bruce Wayne outside of work whether it was fighting crime as Batman or keeping up appearances as the Billionaire playboy. He’s never seen what could be normal Bruce Wayne; he never needed to see Bruce Wayne.

“Okay?” He recognizes with a perplexed look on his face. “Bruce, what’s going on?”

“Stand down, this has nothing to do with our second lives.” He begins to elaborate solemnly. “I’m just as shocked as you are if I have to be honest. I got a call from a social worker asking me if I was available to take you in temporarily and rushed out of my meeting as fast as I could. I assumed the worst, but when I got there the officers told me you and your parents were fine, at least physically. Would you like to fill me in on what happened or do I have to go all Batman on you?”

“I’m not sure myself. I was asleep in my room when I heard people downstairs and went to check it out. The police were raiding my parent’s office with a warrant and then they saw me and took me to the precinct. Why did they call you and not my housekeeper?”

“I assume it’s because I’m a foster parent and in the same economic statue as your parents so the transition won’t be too jarring. Not to mention you already put me as your emergency contact with your school.” He offhandedly tries to explain as he takes in what he was told.

“When can I come home? I don’t want to be a bother for too long-”

“Tim, you’re not a bother,” Bruce states quickly and stares intently into Timothy’s eyes, making the child extremely uncomfortable with the forwardness. “You are never a bother.”

“Sir, not to ruin the sentiment but I believe you’re scaring the poor boy,” Alfred comments from the driver seat while looking at the duo through the rearview mirror. “Might I suggest toning it down?”

“Whoops, sorry about that Tim.” The billionaire apologies and lets go of the shoulder he was still holding. “I don’t think you’re going to be allowed to go home for a while.”

“Oh.”

“Everything is going to be fine Tim; I’ll figure out what’s going on. In the meantime, I hear it’s your birthday! How about we go out for ice cream?”

“I… You don’t have to do anything Bruce.” Tim tells him but the family butler shakes his head at the reply.

“Mister Timothy, that simply will not do. If ice cream doesn’t suit your fancy then might I suggest some old fashion Italian ice? It is a beautiful summer day and we shall not let this day go without being celebrated.”

“And trust us, Tim; We’re more than happy to do this.” Bruce smiles and gestures for Alfred to turn into the nearest dessert place.

Tim withdrawals with a reassuring nod as he looks out the window to the passing cityscape. The young heir is doing his best not to let his alarm show. Whatever is happening to him now is only temporary. Soon enough he’ll be back home and life will continue as normal. Besides, it’s not as if he’s never stayed overnight at the Wayne Manor before. Everything will be fine and soon enough he’ll be back to being regular Tim Drake by day and Robin by night.

OKAY, change of plans.

It’s been long enough and Timothy Jackson Drake is smart enough to realize when his plans aren’t working. It’s already Halloween and there were no signs of his parents coming back for him. He’s been living at the Wayne Manor for almost four months and the most exciting thing to have happened is that he joined in on the annual family picnic. It was… odd being there because almost everyone there was still recovering from the previous Robin’s death as his death was still fresh in the hero community, nearly three years ago. Having another Robin after so long must have been jarring.

“Little brother.” Cassandra, Batgirl, addresses as she points to the Ouija board on the ground in front of him. 

Timothy didn’t have the heart to correct her because she was adopted by Bruce Wayne last Christmas, and even though he’s Robin and living with them he’s not her brother. He reverts his attention to the fake game on the ground as their team members stare at him expectantly. Young Justice was currently having a small Halloween get-together, and Impulse decided it would be a fun idea to mess with a spooky Ouija board. “This is stupid and not going to work.”

“Come on Robin!” Wondergirl urges while tugging on his hand. “Try channeling some ghosts!”

Royal blue eyes roll from behind his green mask and he sets his glove hand on the tiny trinket atop the cardboard. “Secret, do you want a Sprite or a Coke?” He asks, looking up to the heavens mockingly.

“I-Um… A sprite?” The transparent girl replies hesitantly.

“Rob, come on man! You’re ruining the atmosphere!” The short auburn hair teen while as he animatedly throws his entire body back in frustration.

Robin shrugs his shoulders and tosses the girl a can of Sprite from the cooler he was leaning on. “I communicated with a spirit. I did exactly what you guys wanted me to.”

“I meant a different one!” The muscular blonde shouts and sets her hand beside him on the triangular glass. “Let’s try summoning the past Robin!”

“Dude, that would be so cool!” Impulse explains and sets his hand on the board as well along with Secret and Batgirl. “Oh past Robin number 2, hear our call-”

“Impulse what the heck?” Robin scolds as he glares at his younger friend. “That’s rude and disrespectful! You can’t invoke the name of Robin for some silly joke!”

“Chill out, it’s just a game.” The speedster tells him coolly. “Besides, what if we did manage to get the ghost of Robin here? I bet Batman would be super impressed with you!”

“Or pissed that we’re defiling Robin’s name and grave! He probably wants to rest in peace!”

“At least try! You said it wasn’t going to work so there’s no harm in trying!” Impulse pleads with his friend and the boy resigns himself to his fate of making himself look stupid.

The boy wonder takes in a deep breath, closes his eyes, fully committing to the act of channeling a spirit, and says to the room, “Robin, if you’re here with us then give us a sign.”

Everyone waits in anticipatory silence before Secret speaks up, “Maybe you didn’t ask hard enough.”

“Yeah Rob, take it from the actual ghost in the room.” Wondergirl teases with a grin. “You gotta really put your heart in it! Get emotional.”

“You just want to see me look dumb.”

“Yes, but I still have a point!”

Robin pouts before readjusting himself and straightening his spine. He’s about to ask again when he hears Impulse shout at him to speak from the soul, pun intended. The young teen’s eye twitches in irritation, and if Batman didn’t order him to stay away from Gotham for the night he would march home. If they want some passion, for him to speak from the soul, then he’ll freaking speak from the soul.

“Robin, if you’re out there and looking after me from the afterlife then you already know that everyone misses you. Batman, Nightwing, and Agent A always speak highly of you. I’ll admit, you’re a hard name to live up to and I try my best every day to do so. I hope that wherever you are you’re happy.”

“That was beautiful man-”

“And you died a dumb reckless peace of shit.”

“I’m sorry what?”

“You had one God damn job and you couldn’t even do that. Everyone tells me you’re the strongest, the most creative, the truest to yourself Robin, but they never said you were the smartest and it shows.”

“Little Brother-” Batgirl begins to say but Tim doesn’t let her interrupt him.

“I mean, Jane Austin might have been a good writer but that’s half your personal library and let’s be real here, all her stories are the same. Girl meets the boy, she doesn’t like the boy, and then they end up together anyway. At least it was a better love story than Twilight. Also, Harry Potter is overrated and not as good as people remember. What kind of book series has the best parts in the middle? Your taste in books is obnoxious and mainstream. I hate that people said your taste in books was cultured because it’s not-”

“Okay, I think that’s enough, Robin.”

“And another thing! I know you threw that bitch off the building. I was there, I had pictures, and I didn’t turn you in. I’ve stalked you for years and when the time comes I’m posting them all over the shrine we have of you in the Batcave. You better not get mad because I stalk everyone I like since no one in your family has healthy coping mechanisms. Looks like you’re gonna have to make room up there for another Robin up in heaven cause I’m constantly thinking about offing myself when someone compares me to you-”

“Let me do it for you.” A new yet familiar voice that was definitely not someone from his team whispers in his ears. That’s when he feels a sharp pain in his ribcage and sees a knife stabbed through him. “Also don’t you dis Harry Potter!”

“HOLY SHIT!”

“WE SUMMONED A GHOST!”

“ROBIN!”

“You’re blinded by nostalgia,” Tim states in a snarky tone as he coughs up the blood quickly filling his lungs before collapsing.

Christmas has come and gone in Wayne Manor meaning that it’s been about five months since his parents left for that two-week vacation in Fiji. Tim hasn’t given up hope that they’ll come back for him however that positive energy is becoming more pessimistic by the second. It’s not that he’s ungrateful to Mr. Wayne for taking him in and keeping the police from asking him questions, but he’d rather have everything to be normal again. It’ll hurt less leaving them if he emotionally cuts himself off from them now.

Jason walks into the living room with his arm cast covered in plastic and a towel over his head as he looks at the younger teen. “Shower’s free.”

“You better not have used my conditioner again!” He yells back over the back of the couch he’s sitting on.

“It smells like mangos.” The older teenager rebuttals and sticks his tongue out childishly at the younger before flopping down on the opposite end of the love seat causing Tim’s side to raise. The skinnier teen falls off the furniture and onto the expensive oriental rug with a where he promptly flips off the teal eyed boy.

“Uurrrrrrrrrrrggggghhhh! I hate you so much!”

“Right back at cha’ Replacement.”

“Boys,” Bruce sighs as he walks into the area from the staircase in his work clothes. “What’s going on?”

“Jason is being a Dick.” Tim declares as he stands up and grabs his clothes.

Deep blue eyes blink at the statement before inquiring, “The insult or the person?”

The bulkier of the two males shrug as he dries his multi-colored locks. “Can it be both?”

“Bruce, Jason keeps using my bathroom when we have a dozen others in this castle of a house!” Timothy complains, snatching his clothes from where he was sitting.

The billionaire sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose in exasperation. “Jason, you have your own bathroom, and Tim, you are free to use any of the other bathrooms in the manor.”

“It’s the principle of the matter, B. He broke my arm so I think it’s only fair I make his life inconvenient.”

“YOU STABBED ME AND IT WAS CASS THAT BROKE YOUR ARM! YOU KNOW, FOR STABBING ME.”

“Boys, please stop fighting. It’s too early for this.” The man laments as he strolls to the kitchen. “Jason, stop using Tim’s Bathroom.”

“And my conditioner!”

“And his conditioner.”

“I make no promises.” He states as he spreads his legs out on the couch in only a towel much to Tim’s disgust.

The young teen begins to walk to the bathroom with his clothes when he passes by the window and sees something he hasn’t seen in what feels like forever. Timothy drops his clothes and sprints to the glass. He presses his face against the freezing surface thanks to the recent snowfall they had and gawks at what lies near the bottom of the hill next to the manor.

Without hesitation, Tim rushes out the mahogany doors of the Wayne Manor and barefoot into the snowy trail down below. Bruce and Jason scream at him, asking him to stop but he doesn’t, he can’t. The cold on his feet pierce his heels like needles, yet it doesn’t dare hamper his movements in the slightest. The thirteen-year-old is about a foot away from the towering spiked gate when he’s tackled down by his sister- no, not his sister, by Cassandra into a nearby snow mound.

“Cass, let me go!”

“Cold.” She states in all of his wide and varied vocabularies as she forces a jacket over his silk pajamas.

“I have a jacket on now, get off me!” Tim shouts as he pushes her off and clasps the front of the gate to find it frozen shut. He twists his stiff cold fingers around the metal poles of the fence to see that his eyes weren’t deceiving him. The frigid temperatures stick his palms to the alloy and moving his hands becomes pure agony, yet he tightens his grip as he shouts across the street. “MOM! DAD!”

He sees that the couple is too far away to hear him properly so he tears his fists away from the bars, leaving behind a layer of skin, and he tries to pry the gate open again to no avail. Welp, he didn’t spend all that time climbing atop Gotham skyscrapers in a leotard for nothing. With an agility he usually reserves for being Robin, Tim climbs the gate and leaps over the top before running across the icy road to his home. He slips a few times and his stride shakes as he loses feeling in the soles of his feet before opening the gates to his home and racing up the driveway.

“MOM, DAD!” He pants out and goes to hug them tightly only to be held away at arm’s length by his mother’s pristine hands.

“Timothy,” The dressed up blonde woman scolds as she gestures to her son’s… everything. “You’re barely wearing anything in this weather and your hands are bleeding.”

“I-” He shrinks into himself and bows his head shamefully. “I saw you guys from Bruce’s house and-”

“Tim, don’t be so formal with Mr. Wayne. He might have taken you in while we were gone, but he is still your elder, not your friend.” His father informs him as he grabs a pair of loafers from the back of the Mercedes they were packing their luggage into on the ground for his son.

“You know about that?” The teen beams and steps closer to his parents as he slips his feet painfully into the shoes. They were clearly not his size but he did do a lot of growing so he can bear with a little pain. “That’s great! That means you guys cleared everything up and I can come home-”

Janet Drake holds up a stern and annoyed manicured hand as she takes a deep breath. “Timothy, you know that we love you very much and only want the best for you, right?”

Tim nods, the ends of his greasy unkempt and wet hair sticking to his cheekbones as he does so. “Yes.”

“Good, that means you know that Mommy and Daddy wouldn’t do anything that would put you in harm’s way. That goes the same way vice versa.” His mother says as she throws a handbag in the trunk and pats her son’s pasty frozen face. “We love you very much Timothy and expect great things from you. You’re a smart young man and will succeed no matter what you do in life.”

“W-why does this sound like a goodbye? You just got back from your vacation-”

“Tim, we’re moving.” Jackson Drake tells his son with a finality that causes Timothy’s chest to constrict.

He glances at the car then back to his parents before desperately gazing into his father’s eyes, the same eyes he gave his son. “Were… were you even going to tell me? Were you even at least thinking about taking me, your son, with you?”

“There’s no need for tears Timothy, you’re stronger than that.” His mother coos while she wipes a frozen droplet away from his eye with her thumb. “We’ll come and visit you but the longer you keep us here the less likely that’ll be. We have to make our flight soon before anyone notices we’re here.”

“B-But-”

“On the bright side, son, Mr. Wayne has more than enough money to take care of you. The door is also unlocked now so if you need anything you can get it now before they sell the house.” His father explains as he gives his son a half-hug with one arm then heads to the car.

“What about us, me, the company-” He blubbers through a choked voice but his mom simply kisses him on the cheek and pats it before following her husband.

“You don’t have to worry about any of that anymore; We’ve dissolved the company.” She gets into the vehicle and to his astonishment, it backs up quickly but pauses before the driver’s side leaves Timothy’s point of view. “I’m sorry this was so sudden. We left you some money on your bed for you as a farewell gift. Goodbye Timothy, you’re a wonderful son and we’re so proud of you. We love you!”

With that, the Drakes quickly back out of the driveway, almost hitting one of the many trees on their property before spending off into the distance. Tim merely stands in awe at the pure absurdity of the situation as the howling chilly winds blow past him. He almost can’t comprehend what just happened and neither can his body as his cold muscles and bleeding appendages force themselves into his home, dusty and cold from lack of use. Some of their artifacts were knocked over and the office next to the front door was completely ransacked. That wasn’t new as it’s been like that since his birthday five months ago when the police raided it.

He doesn’t bother closing the front door as he trudged up the spiral staircase and down the antique hall to his room. Inside the expansive chamber, his feet drag on the light blue carpet to his bed that still had the stupid Batman bedsheets he’s had since he was ten. Atop his dusty pillow lay a plain white envelope with no writing on it. He opens it and a note falls out which he quickly snatches and reads.

**_For Tim_ **

Looking back inside the envelope were several hundred dollar bills that come to a grand total of $2,500. He puts the money and not back inside the envelope before setting it on his nightstand and climbing into bed. Seconds later Cassandra Cain-Wayne walks in and lays down next to him without a word.

“You saw that, huh?” He chuckles as he lifts the comforter over his nose. “Sorry about that.”

The sixteen-year-old doesn’t answer verbally as she shifts her weight on top of Tim’s before embracing him tightly. The weight isn’t suffocating on account she’s a decent size smaller than he is but the feeling is grounding. His vision blurs again, but before he could begin sobbing Cassandra tells him, “I threw rock at back window. They deserved it.”

The raven-haired teen snorts and laughs at the image of the young Asian girl chucking a stone at his parents as they hurried off into the horizon. “I hope they’re okay. You got good aim.”

Cassandra nods and hugs him tighter then reaches under the sheets to where Tim’s bloody hands are. “Home. We go home.”

“I’m already home-”

“NO.” She practically screams as she holds his injured pals tighter, getting blood all over her. “No. We go home, our home.”

“Cass-”

“Little Brother.” Cassandra whimpers into the blanket where Tim’s shoulder rests. “We go home. We go home or I carry you.”

The teenager sighs and asks, “Can’t I just stay here for a while?”

She shakes her head.

He sighs again. “Can I at least grab some of my stuff?”

She nods her head then rolls off of him and onto the floor. The pale boy takes one last deep breath before getting out of his bed for the last time and joining the other on the floor where he pulls out a heavily locked metal briefcase that holds all of his camera equipment. He then reaches up to the nightstand for his money before nodding to Cassandra who promptly swoops up from under his knees to lift him over her shoulder.

“Cass, I can walk.” He tells her as she hauls him out of the mansion with ease. The black-haired girl gestures disapprovingly and taps the soles of his bloody frostbitten leather loafers as proof. 

Once back into the frigid snowy wonderland that was late December Gotham the two of them make it past the gates of Tim’s house to see Bruce and Jason in a mismatch of wintertime clothes opening the gate with brute force. The second the gate was opened Alfred backed out of the manor grounds. The old butler pulls up beside them and rolls down the window of the limousine, “I do say, Master Timothy, you’re going to catch a cold at this rate. Get inside my boy.”

Master?

Cassandra opens the back door and tosses him inside before joining him along with the other two men following. “Are we going somewhere?” Tim asks from inside the vehicle.

“No, we’re just going back up the hill,” Bruce replies as he takes off his scarf to wrap around the young boy. “We didn’t want you making the trip in the cold.”

“I just fucking showered and now my hair is frozen!” Jason complains as he bends a lock of hair and bends it only for it to hold it’s reformed shape.

Tim presses the grey wool scarf to his face then adverts his gaze away from the older teen. “Sorry, you didn’t have to.”

“Stop that.” The eighteen-year-old man orders with his arms crossed or as much as he could with a cast. “It ain’t your fault I’m bitchin’ ‘bout this and you’re right; I didn’t have ta’ do this but I did. I’m doing this cause I know that you feel like trash right now and even though I hate you you’re still my brother.”

“I’m not-”

“Little Brother,” Cassandra declares, patting him on the head as though he was the shorter of the two.

“Tim,” Bruce started to say with a deep and heavy sigh. “I'm sorry your parents did this. I wish this didn't happen to you.”

“I wish it didn’t either.” He retorts as he wraps his arms around himself and curls his body into a ball.

Timothy Jackson Drake transferred to Gotham Public High School after the following spring semester when news of what happened to Drake industries broke out. The bullying at Gotham Academy has gotten to the point where he either had to leave to forever be known as the boy whose parents went bankrupt and abandoned him. Sure, things weren’t going to be better off as the wealthiest kid in a public school, but anything is better than being around those snooty assholes.

It wasn’t going to be better at Gotham High, but it definitely couldn’t get worse. Tim will still be the same friendless loser he was at Gotham Academy in Gotham High. The only good thing about the transfer is that he doesn’t have to pretend he wasn’t a loner. All his life his parents instilled the importance of establishing strong connections to build business relations. Tim… Tim doesn’t have to do that anymore.

The Tim Drake he worked his whole life establishing was no more and all that was left behind was Robin. Robin had friends, Robin was brave, Robin was magic, and Robin knew what he was doing. Tim Drake and Robin were not the same person because Robin is a face Tim puts on. Robin is his duty and he has no duty to be Tim. To say that the fourteen-year-old is lost right now would be an understatement.

He has an entire summer to try and ground himself to a reality he can make sense of because for all the crazy antics he has to face every day it’s the mundane that seems to ruin him the most. Fighting for his life, looking down maniacs in the eye, planting explosives in drug dens, and hacking alien technology has nothing on waiting for a simple sheet of paper. The lean teenager wraps his arms tightly around himself as he rocks back and forth on the wooden bench outside the courthouse.

“Timmy, don’t worry.” Dick encourages while rubbing circles into his back with a flat hand. “Everything is going to be fine. You’ve already been living with B for almost two years, so there’s no reason for the courts to reject-”

“I know.” Tim interrupts quickly before running a shaky hand through his midnight hair that just begun to touch the bottoms of his ears. “I know, I just- what if they don’t. My parents are still out there and they haven’t signed anything. What if they don’t?”

Jason, who was casually eating a burger while the balance of Tim’s life hangs in the balance, shrugs off the teen’s concern. “Then we bribe them.”

“Jay!”

“WE’RE RICH!” He exclaims with a full mouth before swallowing. “What’s the point of being billionaires if we can’t use it to cheat the court system?”

“Jaaaaaay!” The eldest Wayne sibling whines, throwing his head back. “You can’t say things like that. That’s not only immoral but illegal!”

Teal eyes roll so far Tim’s honestly afraid they’re going to get stuck in the back of the older teen’s head. “Wow, imagine that; Us doing illegal shit. What a scandal.”

“Jason no.”

“Jason yes.”

“Guys,” Cassandra interrupts, pointing at the large wooden double doors of the courthouse. “They’re back.”

The three males stand to attention as Bruce and Alfred walk towards them with neutral expressions on their faces. Tim is instantly on edge because if they’re not smiling that must be terrible news. The courts must not have let it happen. The Gotham billionaire stops in front of him then reaches into his inner suit pocket to pull out a sheet of paper. The young teen immediately snatches it as his wide eyes scan the paper for what he’s been waiting for all day.

Timothy Jackson Drake- **Wayne**

He looks back up to the stoic man to find the serious expression changed into one of pure joy as he’s brought in for a tight hug. “Welcome to the family, son.”

“You say that as if he hasn’t been family this entire time.” Dick grins as he wraps his arms around the boy as well with Cassandra silently doing so as well. “But welcome to the family.”

“Litter Brother,” Cass says with extra emphasis on brother.

The group stays that way for an entire minute then Tim’s big brother looks over at his newly dubbed younger big brother. “You going to join us or what?”

“We’re Waynes, not Kents. I ain’t joining your little party for Replacement.” He scoffs at Dick, but he moves closer to Tim and rests a strong arm on his shoulder. “Guess this means I can officially make your life worse.”

“Jason-” Bruce starts to sigh as he pinches the bridge of his nose. “That does not mean you can do that.”

“Fuck you, Mr. Only Child. I’m not here telling you how to not have siblings and you can’t tell me how I can.”

“I’m your father, that’s my job.”

“Well, you’re bad at it.” He rolls up the sleeve to the dress shirt he was forced to wear for this occasion to his bicep and looks Tim dead in the eye. “And my first order of business is to give him a good old fashion noogie.”

Tim begins to back away as Dick steps between them as the official peacekeeper of this family. “No one is getting noogies. We’re supposed to be going out to that fancy seafood restaurant, not picking fights.”

“You did it to me. I’m only passing down the tradition.” He explains as he stalks forward.

The sapphire eyed man looks back to his younger sister pleadingly. “Cass, a little help here?”

“Tradition.” Is all she says as the girl takes a large step back while facing her new little brother. “Run.”

And he does.

Timothy Wayne, a name he’s still getting used to, was currently taking inventory of the multiple Bat-suits in the cave. He had to make sure no one took anything from them, that there were no new scratches, and most importantly, that they were still field ready. Batman always stressed the importance of being prepared for anything which is why he keeps a souvenir from all of his important battles. Some might call him a hoarder but hoarders aren’t as organized and meticulous as Batman.

Tim is admittedly biased due to his own habit of collecting a concerning amount of pictures and paraphilia of people he admires. No one has told him to stop and it’s not like he’s hurting anyone so it’s fine. He’s fine. He’s Robin which means he’s definitely fine. Tim might one day believe himself if he keeps repeating that mantra in his head. He’s Robin and he’s fine.

He has a family, a real family who loves him. Tim doesn’t have to follow the path his birth parents set for him. He’s living his childhood dream of being Robin and exciting his brain solving mysteries. Tim’s life is full of love and wonder for the first time ever, yet for some reason, there’s a hole in his soul. There’s always been an emptiness inside him he thought would disappear once he’s had everything he’s ever wanted. He should be happy, he has no reason to feel like the void that’s been following him all his life is still consuming his very essence.

“ROBIN YOU BETTER HAVE A CAMERA READY!” He hears Jason shout from the manor entrance of that Batcave.

Puzzled by the need to have his camera on him, Robin sets his clipboard down and closes the glass container of the armored-bat-suit then walks down from the platform next to Batman at the Bat-computer to find the man staring at the screen instead of where Tim hears their guests make their way to them. After working with Batman for two years Timothy has become a master at reading micro-expressions. He’s never seen his father of nearly a month so nervous and worried in his entire life which causes Tim to feel the same.

“B?”

As soon as the name left his mouth the intruders came into view. Tim sees Talia Al-Ghul and the angriest child this planet could possibly offer. The mildly tanned child in fine emerald and gold silk strode into the cave as though he owned the place. The dark knight stands to greet them while Robin stands back and sizes the odd situation before him. Why would the League of Assassins casually stride into their base with a tiny katana-wielding child?

Tim intently listens in on the conversation for a while, contemplating the best time it would be appropriate to interject if needed when he hears Talia say, “Today is his tenth birthday.”

Why would that be important for Batman to know? Then he remembers a log from the files from about ten years ago about his relationship with the daughter of the Demon’s Head. The spandex-clad teenager cringes internally before repressing his epiphany it took him longer than he would have liked to come to. He has to make sure because Batman might be compromised; this entire fiasco could be a ruse to get to him emotionally.

It is Tim’s duty as Robin to ground Batman to reality, to keep him rational before the man could lose himself. “Batman, I think it’s best if we do some tests before we proceed with any actions.”

“Are you doubting my skills?” The child spits out with fury as he uncovers his blade halfway to prepare for battle. Was this weird little gremlin child going to freaking stab him? In front of Batman?

The trio of Waynes and potential Waynes introduce each other and Timothy’s predictions are correct when Damian, the weird child, promptly tries to stab him. Batman hands him the sword to dispose of in a secure location which is just the armory and he does. It’s obvious Batman needs more time with his new son, a description that causes Tim to feel pangs in his chest for some reason, so Robin takes his time putting it away.

Tim guesses that he owes Cass ten bucks on their little bet about how long it takes Bruce to adopt another child, but is it really adoption if the child is blood-related? He still hasn’t spent any of the money his parents left him so it’s not like he’s losing anything, but he doesn’t like losing. He’ll have to talk to her about it when she comes back from visiting Dick in Blüdhaven because she should have been more specific when they made that bet.

Once the sword was safely secured Tim walks back out into the main area of the cave where his ears are immediately bombarded with the sounds of a noticeably more cheerful child scream, “BATMAN IS YOUR DAD! Does that mean you're Robin? My Dad is Superman! My Mom told me that Robin was fifteen which is really old but you don’t look like a big kid. I mean you look like a big kid but not that big unless fifteen isn’t that big or maybe you’re just short. I thought Robin wore more red.”

Oh hell no, Tim is not letting that demon child taint the mantle of Robin while he’s still breathing. “He does wear more red, and I’m Robin, not him”

He expected to hear the child, the supposed son of Superman Batman mentioned to him the previous day, to praise him or stand in awe at his presence however that’s not what happened. Instead of being starstruck or excited about meeting him, a thing all children do when meeting Robin for the first time, the child peeking under the scarlet cape shouts, “You do wear pants!”

What… what in the ever-living fuck-

“The newspaper clippings some of my classmates showed me made it look like you don’t wear pants sometime-”

God damn it, Dick, Tim’s gonna kill him. “THAT WASN’T ME!”

Timothy Jackson Drake-Wayne was shaken on the shoulder by Alfred who was staring at him in concern. “Robin, what is the matter?”

“I-huh?” The sidekick blurts out as he holds his head. “What?”

What just happened? He was guarding the door to the room the enraged child was banging on when all of a sudden he simply… he simply blacked out. Tim is sure he’s had a good night’s sleep so why did his brain seemingly shut off?

“I’ll kill you, Drake! You don’t deserve the mantel father bestowed upon you and I shall rip if from your corpse if I have to: which I fully intend to do! I’ll bury you in an unmarked grave! No one shall mourn your death! NO ONE!”

“The new young master is, how should I put it?”

“A brat?” Tim supplies with a smirk.

“I was going to say something along the lines of overly rambunctious but your definition works much better.” The butler chuckles as he straightens his bowtie. “Robin, I was wondering if you’d be so inclined to entertain young Jonathan Kent. He is completely fascinated by heroes and it would make his first time in Wayne Manor enjoyable if you were to entertain him for a moment. I promise that Master Damian shall not be getting out of that room any time soon.”

Tim is about to protest because it would be irresponsible to leave his assigned post, but his tune swiftly changes when another annoying threat reverberates past the enforced door. “You will let me out of here Drake! You will rue the day that you cross me and when I stab you in the kidneys with a dull butter knife I will force the mantle of Robin away from your hands as your circulatory functions struggle to keep you alive!”

“You know what, sure. I’d love to meet Jonathan.” He agrees and follows Alfred up to the playroom. Who knows, maybe watching over a sweet innocent child will be relaxing. He’ll need it if he’s blacking out in the middle of his duty as Robin.

Okay, so, Jonathan Samuel Kent is a tiny menace in the shape of a seven-year-old. The worst part is that Tim can’t even be mad at the boy or blame him because it’s clear as day that he doesn’t intend on being a force for destruction; it just happens. All the young half-Kryptonian wanted was to have fun and make friends which somehow translate to make Robin’s life harder.

“Fly my pretties, fly away!” Jason commands the children Tim was supposed to be watching over.

“Oh my God Jason, what the Hell is wrong with you?!” Tim shouts back as he struggles in his big brother’s hold. He sees Jonathan’s sky blue eyes glance at him one last time before he runs down the stairs, loudly tugging the decorative wagon filled with snacks behind him which confused everybody to no end. Jon would unquestionably be faster if he simply left the thing behind.

“I’m not missing a chance to make your life harder, Replacement!”

“Jason you asshole, let me go!” He screams and uses the palm of his hands to push the jaw of Jason away from him.

“Never!”

“This is important work, Jay!” The fifteen-year-old grunts threateningly, but it’s hard to come off that way to a man over a foot his height and double his mass in muscle.

“Yeah, sure, toddler taming is such exhausting work. Relax, Replacement.”

Tim breaks out of the grip and leans over the railing to find no sign of Damian or Jon causing panic to settle in. “They’re gone, no I can’t not again-”

Jason sighs and crosses his arms in exasperation. “What, you already lost him once today? How?” When he doesn’t get a clear response the second eldest sees his little brother begin shaking and muttering to himself.

“I can’t do this, not again, I can’t lose him again. I promised I watched him and I’ve already failed. I have to find him, I have to find him, I’d promise him, I promised-”

“Uh, Replacement? It’s not that big of a deal.” Jason utters and shakes the boy’s shoulder to no avail. “Replacement? Robin?”

“Not again, please no, not again, not again, please no, Kon, oh Kon I’m so sorry-”

“Robin? ROBIN!” He doesn’t get a response and turns his brother around to face him only to see his eyes glazed over in some sort of trance. Immediately after seeing the teenager’s eyes Jason takes his hand and slaps the other across the face with a reverberating smack. “TIM!”

“OW, what the fuck Jay!?” The masked teen shouts as he rubs his left cheek before remembering what just happened. “The kids! You asshole, I have to get the kids before B kills me!”

Tim begins to run down the stairs but a hand on his upper arm pulls him back and whirls his body around to face his dual haired sibling. “Hold up, somethings wrong with you.”

“What?”

“Your eyes got weird and you started talkin’ nonsense to yourself!” Jason describes as he rests the back of his left hand on the teen’s forehead. “Did you fight Scarecrow on patrol? You know that you aren’t supposed to come in the manor after fighting him or Ivy until after you get checked out.”

Royal blues eyes blink and he questions, “What are you talking about?”

“You don’t remember.” The older of the two discerns precariously with a disheartened cast on his person. “Can you at least tell me who Kon is?”

Tim stares at his brother for an uncomfortable amount of time before telling him, “I don’t know a Kon.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A long, long, long, long time ago I mentioned that there were three planned chapters focusing on the parents of this story and we've already focused on Superman himself. It would make sense that the next one of these would be Batman and while that is correct it's not the right Batman. It's Tim. Whether he likes it or not he's one of the main parents and the tritagonist since the beginning of this fic. Let's call this chapter the prequel into Timothy's descent into madness and the mindset the boy was in before the beginning of this fic. This was a difficult chapter to write but I'm always up for a challenge which is what this fic as a whole is for me in a sense.
> 
> On an unrelated note writing this extremely long and sometimes nonsensical story is extremely relaxing and a nice break from writing essays. God, I hate essays. Also, I find it funny I already did a Halloween and Thanksgiving chapter long before this time (November 7th). I'm ahead of the game! YAY!🎉
> 
> Thanks reading and I hoped you liked it! Next chapter is the continuation of Tim's journey and certain good little Kent boy's intervention.


	40. Through the Looking Glass (Part 2)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Timothy is experiencing visions of a world that never was. He doesn't understand what's happening to him but the lines between this reality and the other are beginning to blur while he does his best to find out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> When I think I'm going to be late but no, I'm early. Thank y'all for reading as always! This is actually a three-part mini-arc and will conclude in the next chapter before we get back to our usual protagonist, Jon. I hope you enjoy it!

Timothy Jackson Drake-Wayne, or Timothy Wayne for short, has no idea what was wrong with him. At seemingly random moments, his consciousness vanishes which causes him to not only inadvertently put himself in danger but his teammates as well. He doesn’t remember what went through his mind when they happened, however, Tim experienced a sense of fulfillment afterward. He prays to whatever omniscient being on high would hear his pleas that he doesn’t experience these visions while on patrol with Batman; he couldn’t handle it if Robin was taken from him. Every time Batman takes Robin away from one of his sons it nearly breaks the family if past occurrences were anything to go by.

Timothy knows what he is experienced has to be visions or delusions of some sort because he saw something! He doesn’t remember what it was but he saw something! There was a person named Kon, and there was more. The only person who knew about his visions was Jason. He couldn’t dare put the man under more stress than he was already under. The second eldest Wayne quit this life and Timothy couldn’t dare put him back at the forefront again. 

Although… There was another potential person who might understand his plight. He doesn’t have any conclusive evidence, but if his hypothesis is correct there might be someone who knows or understands. Too bad his likely ally is an elementary schooler who hasn’t learned his time tables.

Pacing around his room a fine golden lined tuxedo as he contemplates his next series of moves. The fifteen-year-old can’t very well confront Jonathan head-on as that would be rather absurd and confusing for a kid. Maybe Jonathan didn’t say what he thought and the young vigilante is mistaken. He needs to get Jonathan alone in some way shape or form without anyone else, especially Damian, around.

The little demon brat has unfortunately taken an interest in the unique half-Kryptonian which makes Timothy’s job much harder. If he were a lesser man he’d take the boy away by force and interrogate him, but that notion is entirely absurd and amoral. Tim is many things, but a kidnapper is not one of them.

It’s nevertheless wholly frustrating to have to rely on what is essentially luck to work on his side for something notably important. Tim concludes he has to take the safe route in his plans and offer to look after the child during the gala. It wouldn’t look suspicious seeing as all of his siblings have become entirely taken with the adorable young boy with the large azure eyes. Tim simply needs to act like he is in the same boat as his siblings and all will be fine. The situation isn’t the most preferred space for observation nevertheless it’s what the teen has to work with. Robin is highly adaptable among all other things.

The click of his room door alerts him to an intruder in his abode causing the lean fifteen-year-old to turn his head around to the side. At the entryway to his room walks Jason in a similar tuxedo lined with brilliant scarlet and a sour expression. Straightening his posture Tim tugs his collar before walking up to his older adoptive brother with a polite grin. 

“What’s got you all worked up?” He chortles and traces a slim finger at the other’s wrinkled white dress shirt and newly shaggy hair, crusty with hair spray. “The Hellspawn giving you a run for your money?”

Jason blows the white tuff of his bangs away and slaps the offending appendage off his person with a scowl. “I don’t even know why we’re doing this? If B didn’t want reporters making up rumors then he could’ve jus’ put out a statement. No need for this stupid fuckin’ rich-ass dick measuring contest.”

“It would be suspicious if he threw one of these galas for each of us but not his newest; more so now that he has a blood-son,” Tim explains cooly, as he tugs the taller man’s collar down in a poor attempt to unravel it.

“I don’t need you startin’ on dat ‘blood-son’ bullshit too.” The older hisses and licks the palm of his hand before using the wet palm to slick back his hair much to Timothy’s disgust. “You know Bruce doesn’t care about that shit. ‘Sides, Damian isn’t ready to be around people yet! He needs more time before we go letting ‘im out into the world with civilized people! You tellin’ me that nothing is gonna happen if we let an assassin out into the wild?”

“You make it sound like he’s a while animal, though you wouldn’t be so far off with that comparison.” Tim still remembers the horrid memory of narrow emerald eyes staring up at their father with an oddly childish sense of accomplishment as he presented Batman a severed head with a grenade in its mouth. He was like a kitten who brought its master a dead rat as a gift; horrific, but innocent. “He won’t try anything, and if he does the blame goes on you.”

Jason groans at that statement and slouches forward. “Why da’ fuck did B put me on baby duty!?”

“Cause you got several degrees specifically for ‘Toddler Taming’ in under a year if I remember correctly.”

“I want to teach kids English, not teach them to function in society! DO I LOOK LIKE A ROLE MODEL TO YOU?” He shouts and pounds his hands on his chest in a gesture to himself.

Tim makes a show of examining his brother before pointing out, “You are wearing a suit so… Kinda. It’s almost like no one would know you swore like a sailor or solely consume burgers.”

“Go suck a dick!”

“That’s incest.” Tim brushes off as he walks to his desk to grab a spare comb plastic to toss at the older teen. “What are you doing here? Shouldn’t you be cleaning yourself up?”

Jason watches the styling tool flawlessly and narrows his teal eyes at the younger male. “You’ve been acting weird.”

Well, Tim is glad to know that Jason was never one for beating around the proverbial bush. “I’m fine.”

“Oh really?” Jason scoffs as he taps the side of his heel against a short stack of pizza boxes and points to the few articles of clothing around the room. “Whatever happened to ‘treating your room like a reflection of the mind’. You used to keep your room fucking spotless.”

“I’ve just been working on some things. Besides, my room is still cleaner than yours on a regular day.” He rebuttals and tucks a lock of loose hair behind his left ear.

“And the cans of coffee on your desk?”

Tim quickly pushes the empty aluminum cans into the recycle bin next to his office chair without batting an eye. “It’s only- like- three.”

“You never drank coffee-”

“I’ve had an espresso here and there on difficult cases. You’re overreacting.”

“No,” Jason argues as he moves further into the room and grips his sibling’s shoulders. “No, I’m not overreacting; You’re under-reacting! Tim, if this were me, then you’d be overanalyzing the fuck outta me, not brushing it off! This all started when Demon Brat came to the manor! Did something happen that day that you’re not telling me? What ‘bout that weird trance-”

“Jay, I’m _fine_ ,” Tim emphasizes through annoyed gritted teeth and lightly pushes his brother away from him. “I’m just having a busy week. I promise that I’ll clean everything up after the party if it’s bothering you so much.”

“You know damn well that’s not what’s I’m bothered by-”

“Let’s meet up with everyone else and get this gala over with.” Tim smiles and lightly hits the man’s board chest with the back of his hand as he walks past him and out of his room without another word.

“This isn’t over, Replacement.” Jason promises as he follows and closes the door with a slam on the way out.

Timothy Jackson Drake-Wayne would like to take this moment to announce to the world that he is utterly amazing and right. His life couldn’t get any better because not only did he get the Kryptonian to himself, but his theory was correct that Jonathan knows something that Tim doesn’t. What’s even better is that Timothy isn’t alone in the weird phenom that is happening. This could only mean what whatever is happening is Superhero related, and more importantly, none of Jason’s fucking business.

Tim kept a mental note to begin keeping documentation of his findings when suddenly he found himself back at home and not in the Young Justice Headquarters like he was supposed to be. Disorientated by the sudden change in scenery Tim moves to the living room to find his eldest brother on the couch with their youngest brother. On the television appears to be an episode of Sesame Street, but the show mostly served the purpose of white noise rather than the main focus.

Smugly, Tim saunters up to the back of the couch where he leans over the two boys with a condescending grin. “You two look comfy.”

Dual sapphire eyes turn to Tim and the male can’t help but note that the color appears wrong on the youngest for a reason he can’t quite place. Damian always had blue eyes so why does his mind find it so off-putting? Oh well, it’s probably not important.

“I hate this show and everything it stands for.” The tanned child growls and once again tries to struggle out of the older man’s grip to no avail.

Tim snorts at the reply and back to the eldest Wayne sibling. “Ya hear that Dicky, Damian hates friendship and caring. Guess you gotta try a different method.”

“I don’t need you dissing our lord and savior Big Bird.” Dick jokes and rests his head back on the brown leather cushion.

“Grayson, this entire thing is ridiculous! I don’t need to learn your convoluted ideals from puppets of questionable origins. That’s what I have Jonathan for.” Damian huffs as he crosses his arms and puffs his cheeks. For all the bite the little monster has he’s still a rather cute child.

The acrobat releases the young child who immediately slinks to the floor and sits at the older’s feet with a pout. “Stop putting all your expectations on Jon, you’re going to give the poor boy a complex at this rate.”

“Protecting him and worrying about his well-being is exactly what you strive for me to achieve overall so I don’t understand why you phrase it as a bad thing.” The ten-year-old states in a displeased tone.

“Look, D, Jon is still recovering from the… the thing-”

“You mean having an alien entity pumped into him and force its way through his seven-year-old body all of his life?” Damian asks.

“I- well-!”

“Or do you mean having it ripped out of him and his body not being able to fully recover?” Tim adds unhelpfully as he hops over the couch and sits next to the two.

“Oh my God Tim, no! I mean yes, but no!” Dick stutters out before sighing and dragging his hands down his exhausted complexion. “Is Jon at least doing better? I know his super-healing isn’t… Um… Well developed and he’s still being looked over on the Watchtower.”

Tim shrugs and nods his head. “He’s recovering fine. Kon is looking after him this week and he’s told me that he’ll make a full recovery in a month. Maybe he’ll even be allowed to finally train those powers of his.”

Damian’s fist tightens immensely at the new and he clicks his tongue in frustration. “-Tt- He doesn’t need training, he needs to be locked away! Don’t you see that honing his skills we would be no better than that hack that tried to use him!”

“And it’s going to happen again if he doesn’t learn to protect himself.” Tim retorts quickly and confidently. “Neither you nor Superman can deny the fact that keeping what could be one of our greatest assets on the back burner because you can’t stand to see him hurt is detrimental to our cause. No one wants to see a kid get hurt, but newsflash Demon Brat: He’s going to get hurt. You can either shelter him and have him panic when the time comes, or prepare him and have him be ready to kick ass!”

“Hey, stop it you two-” The oldest brother tries to intervene only to have his face pushed away by Damian’s rough hand as the boy uses it as leverage to stand.

“You didn’t see him back there, Drake! You didn’t see him cry in utter agony as that black ooze violated his being while we stood utterly helpless! You didn’t have him reach out for you on the other side of that glass! Putting these expectations on him, training him to be a weapon, will only cause him pain! He’s so young, naive of the evils in this world! He doesn’t need to be exploited by those supposed to protect him!”

“Stop projecting on Jon, Damian,” Tim argues and tilts forward to glare at the child. “Treating him like a priceless fragile gem is definitely going to give him some sort of complex towards you.”

“Oh, and eyeing him as a potential child soldier isn’t going to give him a complex?!”

Using his toned arms, Dick Grayson forces the two out of each other’s face with a stern stare of disapproval from both young men. “STOP. We are not talking about this. We are not Jonathan’s parents and we have no say in this.”

“Drake started it.”

“Damian brought it up.”

“I swear, you two can literally find anything to argue about.” Dick sighs and slouches in the soft seat. “Bruce is going to be home any second now and I don’t need you two fighting!”

The two younger boys turn their heads away from each other in a pout, but their argumentative nature ceases for the time being. It was pretty hard to keep up a bothered disposition when Sunny Days was playing in the background. The brothers sit in the living room and enjoy, in the loosest sense of the word, one episode of Sesame Street before they hear a knock at the door. Alfred walks to the front and finds Clark Kent at the entrance in his civilian clothes and a somber expression.

The old British butler was famous for his keen intuition so the Man of Steel didn’t even have to utter a single word for the man to understand why he was there. Like a true professional, Alfred straightens his spine, clears his throat, and without a single word users the family friend inside. Damian rushes up to the man, worrying for the worst, and asks, “Is Jon okay?”

Clark nods his head but doesn’t dare meet the ten-year-old in the eye as though the very act would pain him. “Jon’s doing better, but how about you sit down with your brothers.”

Alfred, as though he was magic, is by the coffee table with a tray of teacups even though none of them saw him head to the kitchen. As soon as the cup was set in front of Richard the young man began shaking his head and tearing up. Before the farmer could even get a word out the oldest Wayne shoots up from the sofa with his arms wrapped around himself.

“No.”

“Dick-” Clark began to say in a soft voice but Dick is already walking out of the area.

“No, no I can’t, this can’t be happening. I’m not ready.”

“Drake, what is wrong with Grayson?” Damian asks the teenager who eyes the boy displaying a concerning amount of worry in front of him. It shows how much the atmosphere in the home suddenly changed and is only solidified as Dick slams the door to Bruce’s office.

The Kryptonian sighs and sits at the lounge chair across from the two at the couch and Alfred sits down with the boys as the usual caregiver has left the room in a hurry. Clark takes in a deep breath before closing his eyes and resting his forehead on his closed fists. “This… I’m sorry.”

“Sorry for what?” Damian inquires and Tim grabs his little brother’s arm and holds him close. He knows that the child hates physical contact, but Timothy doesn’t know what else to do.

“On the mission… your father… He’s not coming back.”

“ROBIN!” Wonder Girl shouts and suddenly the young vigilante’s body violently jolts back to life then realizes that he’s falling. Why was he falling? Wasn’t he just at home?

The fifteen-year-old doesn’t have time to think about that for long as he goes for his utility belt and whips out his grappling gun to latch onto the nearest ledge. Tim proceeds to regain his bearing on the wall of the skyscraper before Impulse sprints up the building and runs him to the roof. The short auburn-haired teen beings twirling around in circles out of put adrenaline before shaking his taller friend by the shoulders frantically.

“Robin, what the fuck was that dude!?!” He cries from behind his goggles. “Were all like, blam, pew, bam, ka-pow and then you were all like, ‘I got this’ and all of a sudden you just completely blanked the fuck out and then the target hit you and you were falling and you didn’t even do anything until you almost hit the ground and we didn’t think we were gonna make it in time because we didn’t notice until it was too late and I almost lost ya Rob-”

“Impulse, breathe.” Tim orders and the younger immediately starts to hyperventilate which is not what he meant. “I mean breathe slowly!”

In his right ear, Cassie tunes in and the hero hears the leader of their team speak disapprovingly to him. “Robin, I don’t know what that was about but you’re going back to the ship until further notice with Impulse.”

“But-” He begins to protest but is swiftly cut off.

“No buts! Empress and I can handle the rest of the mission from here. Understood?”

“I can’t just-”

“You can and will! I’m the leader and what I say goes, do you understand?” With a huff, Tim replies in the affirmative before turning off his communicator and heading back to the plane with Impulse. He needs to find a better way to control the timing of these visions before he ends up jeopardizing a mission or even worse, dead.

Okay, so Timothy Wayne has finally lost control of his life and after 72 hours of uninterrupted consciousness, anything is a good idea. EVERYTHING IS AN EXCELLENT IDEA! The pale fifteen-year-old always liked the taste of coffee, but he now realizes that it’s the best thing since cocaine! Cocaine sounds fucking amazing right about now and if Tim didn’t have it beat into his head to never do drugs he would have already snorted a line. Caffeine powder, on the other hand, that was fair game. He’s not there yet but he was damn close!

“And that’s what we need to raid LexCorp with all of our explosives.” Tim finishes his presentation to the current member of Young Justice. He clicks a button on a handheld remote to transition his three hundred slide PowerPoint to the last slide with the word “Questions?” in the comic-sans font.

Immediately everyone in the shared living space raises their hand with equally concerned expressions upon their faces. Tim nods his head and turns off the projector with a smile. “None? Great, let’s go!”

“I have so many questions!” Bart shouts as he stops his friend from walking out of the room to the teleporters. “You’ve been having strange visions of stuff you have no proof could even happen, and your first concern is trying to find a guy you don’t even know exists!”

“Look, Tim-”

“Names.”

“Robin,” Wonder Girl corrects herself with a groan. “I’m all for screwing over Lex Luthor, don’t get me wrong, but what you’re proposing isn’t only dangerous but potentially might not even have any results. We can’t trust your visions or whatever they are without more proof.”

Timothy downs the scolding hot cup of espresso in his hand in one fluid motion, burning his throat in the process, and contemplates a way for his allies to believe him. They were supposed to be his friends and have his back, not look at him like he was crazy. He hasn’t had many visions of Kon-El, but he knows that whoever the guy is he was part of Young Justice. Knowing that he was supposed to be here with the team and coming back to a reality without him made the world feel more empty than it usually does. How can he convince his friends to believe him if he can’t force the memories out and show them? Miss Martian, the fun killer, refused to do that for him and he knows he’s not a reliable witness. He needs a second-... OH WAIT, HE HAS ANOTHER PERSON THAT CAN VOUCH FOR HIM!

“You’re right,” He begins with a serious attitude and tosses the empty cup into the bin next to him before pulling out a can of cold brew from his belt much to his teammates’ concern. “I can’t ask you to do this or do it myself without further evidence.”

“Exactly.” Secret nods and pats him on the shoulder. “And we’ll help you do it, but maybe you should get some rest and cut back on the coffee.”

“Yeah Rob, that stuff is going to kill you with the rate you're downing it.” Impulse agrees with several quick nods. “Once you sleep it off, then we can talk about it some more. Okay Buddy?”

Tim retrieves his presentation and heads to the hall, but instead of going for his room in the headquarters he immediately changes out of his uniform and into civilian clothes as he walks to the teleporters. He gets to the machine and inputs the secret coordinates to the treehouse. If they want proof he’ll show them some fucking proof.

Jonathan Samuel Kent, Timothy Wayne has concluded, is a dumb child. All kids are kind of dumb in his humble opinion, but there’s the acceptable amount of stupid that comes with youth and then there’s whatever Jon is. He’s the kind of child to look at poisonous milk that he fully well knows is poisonous and drink it anyway because who fucking knows why. He’s also the kind of boy who jumps in a lake after accidentally slamming their head into the diving board.

“SUPERBOY!” Supergirl screams seeing her baby cousin sink into the waters without any self-preservation; the tiny idiot didn’t even change out of his superhero costume. Jon didn’t even try to swim to the surface, opting to stay completely still as the waves took him under. For a second, Tim thought that maybe the child was having a vision and was blacking out, but no. No, that's giving Jon too much credit.

The blonde Kryptonian pulls the boy to the surface where he immediately spits out water like a fountain. “Huh, I thought it would take less time.”

“What?” She replies, staring at the boy wide-eyed.

“Dami- I mean Robin said that it would be hard to get hurt during the picnic because there were so many heroes around. I wanted to see if he was right.”

Kara facepalms at the answer and Tim turns his head to Damian, who has his hands in his face. The boy was wearing a pair of green swimming trunks and his Domino mask still securely attached to his face. “When I said that it wasn’t an invitation to attempt suicide!”

It’s at this point Tim wonders what deity on high he angered to put him in his current predicament. How in the Nine Hells did Tim get into a point in his life that he’s experiencing some sort of cosmic event centered on a world that doesn’t exist, and his only ally is an incredibly sheltered soon-to-be second-grader? What galactic reality show is Timothy Drake-Wayne living?

Tim was spending one of his rare free days from all of his obligations on the couch of the Young Justice HQ. He would much rather be in his room or at his desk to catch up on his work, but the teenager knows better than to defy his boyfriend’s simple request. Tim could push his work back for at least a day and simply sit on the sofa next to Kon. The half-Kryptonian clone was currently scrolling through his phone and liking random pictures of animals while supporting the weight of the older teen on his shoulder.

“Babe, check this one out.” Kon-El laughs and lowers the screen down to Timothy’s drowsy complexion. It was a gif of a labrador pulling a blanket over itself. “That’s you right now.”

Tim defiantly pulls the throw blanket over the rest of his body and out of the muscular teen’s lap with a scowl. “Haha.”

“Aw, don’t be like that. You know it’s true.” He tells him and kisses his boyfriend on the head before resuming his previous activities.

Yep, just a calming and serene peaceful day to destress from the chaos that is Timothy Wayne’s life. Tim is only mere moments from drifting away to the wondrous land of a good night’s rest, even though it was barely past noon when the familiar sound of tiny annoying gremlin storms up to the room. The juvenile CEO of Wayne Enterprises braces himself to be shouted at for whatever minuscule slight the biological son of Bruce Wayne accuses him of and begrudgingly sits up.

Right on cue an enraged Robin bursts through the door dragging a helpless Jonathan Samuel Kent behind him with his worn-out Heelys dragging across the floor. The smaller boy looks utterly helpless behind the threatening assassin who was glaring daggers at teenagers with his ocean blue eyes. “DRAKE.” The boy snarls and drops Jonathan to the floor as he unsheathes his Katana.

“Wayne.” Tim dully corrects and Superboy has to quickly shield him from the blade that was aimed for his neck.

“You shut your whore mouth!” Damian hollers as the sharp steel connects with Kon’s midsection. “You’ve been teaching Jonathan our family’s secret codes! What purpose could that possibly serve other than preparing him to fight alongside us?”

“Dami-” Jonathan begins to say from the tile but is rapidly shut down by a harsh unforgiving glare.

“No, I didn’t.” The teen lies in the most unconvincing manner possible. He was just trying to push Damian’s buttons at this point because he doesn’t care about the child’s disapproval.

Through gritted teeth, the ex-assassin growls, “Don’t you lie to my face, you coward! I told you I’m not letting Jonathan fight! By knowing our secrets you are putting him in danger! Our enemies could use him as a weak point to get to us!”

Royal blue eyes roll and he leans back on the cushion with crossed arms as he looks at his little brother. “Jon is living with us-”

“Temporarily!”

Tim rolls his eyes again. “Jon is living with us until Christopher can get his shit together. He needs to know these kinds of things ahead of time. Also, just to point out, it’s not you who gets a say in what Jon learns; it’s Jon. He wanted to know so I taught him.”

“You manipulated him by using his chaste childish curiosity to your advantage!” The new Boy Wonder argues but puts his weapon away, and hauls his friend back up by the back of his collar like a cat.

“I didn’t manipulate him, I gave him a choice.”

“An uninformed choice!” He bites back in frustration and stomps his heels to the ground. “I’m trying to keep Jonathan out of danger and you’re not helping! Stay out of my way Drake! Jonathan is my responsibility, not your ward! If I ever see you near Jonathan again I’ll have your head on a pike! Do you understand!?”

“Gonna be really hard to do that seeing as we live in the same home.” Tim scoffs as he waves off the threat. “See you at dinner Jon.”

“Bye-bye Tim!” The half-Kryptonian child waves much to the other’s chagrin.

A large hand swings his shoulder and instead of the gentle hand of his significant other glared the teal eyes of his second eldest brother. The room was dark with only the source of light was the incandescent white of his laptop screen that was opened next to Tim’s pillow. Tim is barely able to get his eyes fully opened when the back of that very same hand that awoke him smacks him across the face.

“BITCH WAKE THE FUCK UP-”

“I’m up, I’m up!” The highschooler groans as he pushes the man off of him and couldn’t help but notice that Jason feels heavier than usual. Usually when his brother wakes him up and Tim has to push him off his arms don’t strain. “You’re getting fat.”

“I’m not, you’re jus’ a weak lil’ shit! Don’t fucking body shame me!”

“I’m your little brother. I’ve made it my life’s mission to shame you in all the ways. I’ll fucking kink shame you if you don’t let me sleep.”

“I’m going to toss you into the pool,” Jason calls out and tosses the boy over his shoulder and the ever-growing trash pile where Tim’s nightstand used to be. “Damn bitch, you live like this? Ever heard of a vacuum?”

Still drowsy from being suddenly awoken Tim only manages to mumble some semblance of words. Once out into the hall a repetitive knocking noise could be heard from Damian’s room where Cassandra was banging on the wood progressively louder. Dick comes out of his room in a casual Navy blue graphic T-shirt and acid-washed jeans to stand next to his sister.

“Cass, what are you doing?”

“Baby brother. First Day. School.” She answers as her fists begin to shake the door frame.

“Cass,” The eldest sibling sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose in a very Bruce-like manner. “Damian has been awake for three hours. He’s in the garden training with his sword that I could’ve sworn I confiscated last night.”

“Oh.” The black-eyed girl blinks and promptly ends her rapping.

“The fuck is he doing back there?” Jason questions as he whirls around and nearly slams Tim’s head on the adjacent wall.

“Training and avoiding getting ready for school.” Dick sighs as he heads towards the stairs. “I tried getting him excited for today, but I think I made it worse.”

The taller teen sighs then cuffs the back of his older brother’s head. For a guy who wants to work with children he sure does like hitting people. “Dick-head, you’re doing it again. You can live your own life ya know, leave the Hellspawn to us.”

“Don’t call him that,” He quips and uses one hand to rub his eyes. “This is exactly why I can’t leave. This attitude you guys hold towards him is only going to make him worse. He’s a kid raised under unfortunate circumstances. It’s not his fault his personality is so volatile.”

“We know it’s not his fault his mother is a righteous cunt, but he doesn’t make it easier. You’re trying too hard to raise Damian like a normal kid without recognizing that he’s never going to be normal! Not in this family!”

“You turned out fine-”

“Don’t you fucking start on that shit with me! I absolutely did not turn out fine, and just because I want to live a normal life doesn’t mean he will! It’s not even your job to raise him! That’s Bruce’s fucking responsibility! Go back to Blüdhaven and live your life instead of picking up after B!”

“I can’t!” Dick shouts as he nudges past his brothers and heads down the steps. “Bruce is fine when he’s here, don’t get me wrong, but that’s the problem! He’s not around enough to raise him on his own! Damian is not going to get Bruce if he keeps this up, he’s going to get Batman and Batman isn’t a parent; he’s a commander.”

“They’re the same person!”

“They don’t act like it!”

Tim is unceremoniously dropped onto the floor as the eldest brothers argue with each other as they descend the stairs. The boy doesn’t even bother to get to his feet preferring to lay on the carpet feeling like garbage. Cassandra pokes him on the shoulder with a bit too much force causing the skinny teen to wince in pain.

“Little Brother.”

“Cass, can you do me a favor?” The teenage girl responds with silence but she hasn’t abandoned him so that means yes. “Can you get me a cup of coffee?”

Timothy has admittedly been avoiding his younger brother for a plethora of reasons, one of which is the borderline obsession the assassin has about stabbing him… a lot. Tim has had plenty of conversations with Damian in the past, but none of them were with this Damian. His Damian, that is to say the brother in his visions, is similar to the real one however there are some glaring differences. The eyes and his disposition towards Jonathan are a large factor that Tim attributes to the different pasts the two of them do not share.

Even though Tim has a pretty good idea about how this confrontation will turn out he still owes it to Damian to try and be family. Whether Tim likes it or not he’s here to stay, and the teen needs to develop some sort of positive relationship with him. Timothy puts on his newly designed Robin uniform, with little to no green, then walks up to the boy sitting on the stairs to the Batcave with his chin in his palms and elbows on his knees.

The boy was dressed in his make-shift Robin costume and scoffed at the sight of Tim. “Still wearing that poorly designed atrocity?”

Gods this was going to be hard. “Demon Brat, what are you planning?”

“-Tt-” The boy clicks his tongue and turns his emerald gaze away from Tim’s scrutinizing eyes. “I’m not planning anything.”

“Really?” Tim says in a way that makes it obvious that he doesn’t believe him. “So you’re not planning on training Jon to fight crime?” The words coming out of his lips almost seem foreign to him due to all of those visions of him shielding him away from anything of the sort.

“Not like I could with you all breathing down my neck like some degenerate.” Damian huffs as he puts on the dark pine colored Domino mask to conceal his face. “I don’t see why that’s a bad thing. You’re all wasting a resource with the potential to be great in favor of what? Formative years wasted on meaningless pleasantries he won’t even care about in the future?”

“I see…” He sighs and puts on his own black mask over his features. “I know you hate me, but I need you to keep something in mind.” Tim couches down to Damian’s level and stares at him directly in the eyes with a coldly detached gravity that scarily reminds the young boy of his grandfather. “Jonathan is seven. He is two and a half years younger than you are. He just lost everything and is a good boy who wants to be your friend; not your slave. You have a responsibility towards him to keep him safe or else.”

The child glares back and the contusions of his brow reveal a deep scowl that is very Batman-esque. “Or else what, you’ll ground me?” He challenges in a mocking voice.

“No, I don’t have that kind of authority.” Tim laughs off with a warm smile as he ruffles Damian’s thick hair; a gesture he knows the boy despises. “You’re just going to break him.” Green eyes squint at Tim from behind his mask and open his mouth to say something but the older sibling turns away with a flourish of his heavy black cape. “Some people think that breaking someone means tearing at their will until they’re empty husks of who they used to be. Those people are narrow-minded. There are so many ways to break a person, but Jon is the kind of boy who can’t let anyone go. He’s already lost his home and most of the people in his life. Next, he’s going to lose trust in his family. Once he loses that you’re going to be the last thing he can hold onto in this world. When he gets to that point nothing you do or say will get rid of him. You’ll be the air he needs to breathe and he wants to be smothered in it. Be very careful how you handle Jonathan, Damian. If you don’t at least try to maintain some sort of healthy distance who knows what he’ll do.”

The fifteen-year-old saunter’s away from the boy and moves to check on the Batmobile before tonight’s patrol. Bruce is on a Justice League mission in space at the moment meaning that nothing was allowed to go wrong. A hand on Tim’s wrist stops him from walking any further and he looks down at the leather green glove gripping his person.

“I’ve spent weeks with Jonathan while you barely had a day’s worth of contact. So tell me why do you sound like you know that vexatious bungler more than I do?”

The two Robins stand alone in the Batcave in silence for what feels like an eternity before the more experienced of them effortlessly slips out of the grasp with a fiendish smile. “Maybe you just don’t know people as well as you think you do. Now get out of the cave before I tell Dick.”

The resounding shriek of sheer resentment behind him made Tim feel like this entire conversation was worth it.

“Knees to chest, Jon! Do you understand me, soldier?!” The seventeen-year-old teen with silky ink colored hair hollers to the exhausted nine-year-old boy doing his best to run around the track in the Batcave.

“Sir yes sir!” The child squeaks out before immediately toppling over onto the cold metal floor. “EEP!”

“I don’t think you do understand me! Your powers mean nothing if you can’t even run in a straight line without tripping over your own two feet!” The vigilante shouts as he picks the boy back up to his feet. “What if you were to be carrying a civilian!? Are you going to drop them because you can’t get it together!?”

“I-I’m sorry-!” The little boy sniffles as he gets back to running.

“I don’t want to hear apologies, I want to see results!”

“Sir yes sir!”

Timothy looks away from his protege for a mere moment before the taps of rubber sneakers on steel come to a halt. The man looks up, fully prepared to chastise his charge for slacking off again when he is met with the familiar scarlet gleam of a red helmet in his face. Without batting an eye Tim grabs one of the wooden training bo-staffs from the rack next to him and tosses it forward to Jon, who is currently being cornered by an older teenage girl with bright red hair, white shorts, and long purple boots. Jon catches it quickly and instantly begins to fight off the person holding him at knifepoint.

His mentor meanwhile pinches the bridge of his nose and sighs at the taller man looking down at him. “What are you doing here Red Hood?”

“What? Is the little Replacement still bitter about being replaced himself?” The man insults before pointing a loaded pistol at Timothy’s forehead.

“I see you’re avoiding the point, as usual- Keep those shoulders square!” Tim interrupts himself and leans to the side to get a better look at his student. “You have range on your side and Sasha has a knife!”

“She’s bigger than me!”

“Everyone is bigger than you; you’re nine!” Tim quips before returning his attention to the reject in front of him. “If you’re looking for Batman he’s out on JLA business with Robin.”

The criminal rolls his head back and taps Tim’s head with the butt of his gun. “I figured after seeing you put the baby Kent through the wringer. You’re a real piece of work, Replacement. I bet Brucie would be real proud of ya for doing your part in fucking up another generation.”

“Right back at you,” Tim says as he ties his hair back with the band around his boney wrist, unphased by the gun pointed at him.

“Yeah, but I don’t go around claiming I have the moral high ground. I shoot pimps for shits and giggles.”

“That’s your choice Mr. Daddy Issues.”

“Oh fuck you-”

“Sorry, I’m taken.” He retorts as he walks away from Jason and to the computer while the two sidekicks duke it out amongst themselves.

A static groan escapes the helmet and the man snaps open the side latches before taking it off. Sweaty ebony black hair shakes with the man’s head as the white tuff on the front glue themselves to the man’s forehead. “Urgh, why do you always have to make things weird, Replacement?”

Tim shrugs nonchalantly as he turns on the espresso maker next to the keyboard. “It’s only weird if you make it weird.” He begins working on some easy cases seeing as Jonathan’s endurance training has been abruptly rescheduled into combat. “So are you here to bother me, or are you wanting to scar a third-grader by nailing my body on the wall like an abstract Jesus Christ?”

The man sighs then leans his lower back against the console next to Tim and crosses his arms. “I was gonna kidnap the Demon Brat and use him to make his mommy miserable for fun.”

“Talia?” He asks as he opens a file on Poison Ivy escaping Arkham again.

“Nah, man. I’m talking about Dick.” He rectifies smugly. “Damian is like that bitch’s kid. One little hair plucked from his baby’s head will have the man bawling for days.”

“Well you’re not wrong,” Tim admits before switching to a file on Bane. “Jon, no holding back!”

“But she’s a girl- Oof!”

Red Hood cheers at his sidekick kicking the child in the face with several rambunctious claps. “Woooo! That’s my girl! You teach that sexist little shit what’s what!”

“He’s a kid from Kansas. He has some internalized misogyny running through him, so don’t take it personally.”

“I’m not, that’s why I’m cheering. If I took it personally I’d tell Scarlet to beat him harder.” He explains, slapping the younger on the shoulder. “Besides, I already had to deal with your internalized homophobia you bisexual disaster.”

“What can I say, my absent yet overbearing parents had one son and didn’t want him to be a faggot.” 

“Don’t use that language in my house!” He chastises and slaps him over the back of the head. “We might beat people up with no discrimination, but that doesn’t mean we get to use slurs you fucking twink!”

“Ow, what the fuck Jay!” Tim shouts and nurses his skull. “Your double standards are bullshit and you don’t even live here!”

“Hey, Bruce still put me in his will, and technically speaking I own a fifth of this house!”

“You still don’t live here.” He points out as he grabs his coffee and takes a long relaxing sip. “But you could. Alfred still keeps your room clean and we have plenty of room for Sasha.”

“Oh _sure_ ,” He laughs and rudely slaps his knee. “And maybe I can put up the helmet and go to college like I always wanted! Maybe I’ll be an English major and make B proud! Let’s not fucking kid ourselves.”

“Maybe _you’re_ trying to kid _yourself_.” Tim suggests after taking another sip of coffee.

The two of them bask in the lingering silence the statement created before the young teen hears the distinct cocking of a gun that is immediately followed by a searing pain in his thigh. “That’ll fucking teach you to mouth off to me. Don’t get comfortable, Replacement.”

“TIM!” He hears Jonathan scream beyond the ringing in his ears, and before his vision fades to black.

“TIM!” Dick shouts as Timothy Jackson Drake-Wayne’s world begins to become cohesive again. Color seeps into his vision becoming a mix of mismatched patterns until transforming into shapes that the boy recognizes. Eventually, those shapes become people and Tim hates people.

“What am I doing here?”

“-Tt- What _are_ you doing here?”

Tim snaps his head to his right where a heavily scarred Damian is currently experiencing the absolute atrocity that is public transportation. His memories come back to him in a busting chaotic haze as he recalls what he’s doing on a train of all things. Now he remembers why the heck he was on a bullet train with his eldest and youngest brothers; he was going to do some solo research on his visions that ended up not being so solo. Thanks Dick, he hates it.

“Tim, you okay?” The before mentioned older brother asks as he hands the teen a room temperature sports drink.

The teen brushes down his red polo before taking the raspberry blue bottle and chugging it down a significant portion of the liquid before wiping his mouth with the folded collar of his shirt like a mad lad. “Thanks, I’m fine now.” He wishes it was coffee or at the very least caffeinated but beggars can’t be choosers.

“You didn’t have to come if all you were going to do is fall asleep,” Damian tells him and crosses his braced leg over the other only to have Richard physically uncross them. 

“Damian, I don’t want you taking any chances on your injury.” He proclaims in a tender voice that Tim can’t help but feel jealous of.

It was the kind of voice that reminded Tim of his mother when she used to love him. When his siblings talk about Janet and Jackson Drake they make it sound as though they were always terrible people. They talk about them as horrible child abusers when that wasn’t always the case. There was a time in the boy’s life when his mother would tuck him in and his father would hold him. There was a period in his life that Tim vaguely remembers when his mom and dad refused to go anywhere without their little baby boy.

When did he stop being their baby boy? When did he stop deserving their love all the time and was relegated to seeing it in brief flashes? When did he stop being enough?

Tim knows that it wasn’t him, that his parents were just terrible parents, but those hurtful thoughts have a habit of creeping up on him from time to time. The pain sometimes hits him like a freight train when he least expects it. What did Damian do to get the Richard who acts like a second parent when Bruce couldn’t be around? Was it because his childhood was worse than his or was it because he was much younger?

Jason probably said it best, “Dick treated his siblings like stages in his life.” His older brother was stuck with a second broken household where his brother was too busy finding himself and fighting Bruce. Or as Jason liked to call it: The Disco Wing Era. Cassandra and Tim both got their eldest brother at his lowest point, when he was full of bitter remorse and regret over the death in the family. That Dick Grayson was the one who tried his best to be a good older brother.

And now there’s Damian.

Bruce was around the same age, if not younger, when he took his first charge in his care. Dick was simply following his father’s example subconsciously which makes sense. Dick is the only Wayne sibling to have always had Bruce’s full attention and has been with him the longest. It is logical for him to have derived more from the man than the rest of his siblings. He was only twenty-four but was somehow trying to fill in the empty gap of a parent even though that space was already trying to be filled by Bruce.

Tim isn’t here to say that the billionaire was perfect or great, but he was good. He was around and doing his best. Bruce’s way of showing love was giving his children space to figure things out and pursue their passions. He’s the kind of dad that lets his children fuck up from a safe distance so they can learn their lesson before stepping in. Bruce knows that trying to force his children to do anything will lead to disastrous results, but he’s always there to lend a hand when they need it.

Dick on the other hand is taking a reactionary method to contrast Bruce’s parenting style. He’s doing everything in his power to give his kid a floaty and a dozen life preservers before gently placing them in the shallow end. Personally, Tim likes his father’s method of, “let the bitches drown in the deep end before diving in to rescue them from their own stupidity.”

Too bad for the eldest Wayne sibling that Damian is the wrong child to try and coddle.

“OW! Damian, no!” Dick scolds as he shakes his newly bitten hand.

“Don’t touch me, Grayson! I will end you!”

“Damian, we don’t say things like that. Especially in public!”

“You’re not the boss of me!”

Tim was pretty sure that Jonathan wasn’t this… kidnap prone in his visions. Sure, Jon was naive but he never got freaking kidnaped. Thrice. Maybe four times if he counts Damian, which he does. He’s really taking his Lois Lane heritage to heart. Maybe one day the seven-year-old will become so desensitized to being taken by random strangers he’ll just hop into unmarked vans… or wait, that DID happen if the story about him driving into Gotham Bay is to be believed. Wow. Anyways, the point is that they lost Jon and then his mom called saying he walked onto a bus with a strange man.

No one is taking the news well. Kara has crushed three handrails due to stress and guilt, Dick looks calm but he has that tight smile on his face that tells the world he’s screaming on the inside, and Damian is shaking while looking ahead with a murderous glower. Tim is worried especially since they’re all recovering from the last kidnapping, but he’s not worried to the point of becoming an utter wreck. Batman has taught him to trust his gut and his gut says that Jon is fine.

They’re in a toy store looking for Jon because it was the most obvious place he’d be. What kind of kidnapper wouldn’t take a kid like Jon to the biggest toy store in Metropolis? Tim knows that if he were to kidnap Jon and take him around the city he’d go to the toy store. It’s probably not a good thing that Tim is thinking like this, but he’s too done with the situation to care. This is already biting into his research time.

Damian immediately ran off into the building alone much to his brothers’ dismay, however it was completely understandable. The two just got out of a traumatic situation together and what’s occurring right now is probably triggering some horrible emotions. It’s obvious from Jonathan’s reaction to Damian potentially getting hurt that at the museum that the repercussions of their adventure ran deep.

Tim is the first one to almost catch up to the rouge Damian when his path is intercepted by some fucking meathead in a Metropolis High letterman jacket. It didn’t help that the shorter teen crashed face-first into the other’s back that must have been made of steel or something. Tim was going to apologize and then ignore the stranger when said stranger turns around to confront whatever bumped into him.

“Dude, what the hell?”

In a haze of memories, Timothy’s world came crashing down only to come back together again into something more whole than when it started. The voice, the crystal clear sky blue eyes, the defined jawbone, his height, and those muscles; HOLY FUCK those muscles are doing things to Tim that he doesn’t fully understand, but he’s here for it! There were some minor differences like the style of clothing, the placement of his piercings, and his haircut. None of that mattered right now because it was Kon-El! He was real! He was here and real! Tim could only do one thing after his months of wondering and obsessing over a figment of what could’ve been his imagination materialized in front of him:

He screamed like a little bitch.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I would like to say once again I'm not here to make a stance on what counts as good parenting. What I will say is that Tim was a young teen with no guidance in a world wracked with extra-dimensional bullshit 24/7. Dick is 24 and not ready for whatever the fuck he signed up for and Bruce... okay anyways. The choices they make, I think, make sense but that doesn't mean they're good.
> 
> Writing this little side story has been a great way for me to go in-depth into the Bat-family of this story because while they are major characters in this fic they're not the focus. Writing from Jonathan's POV and even Damian's gives me no reason to go into that stuff, but Tim on the other hands gives me all the reason to get into their dynamic with each other. I do like that Batfam™ because they're such an interesting dynamic that I don't really get to see in comics. Sure, they're are plenty of superhero families but there's just something about the highly dysfunctional found-family that really gets the brain thinking.
> 
> Also, #GiveJasonABreak2020. Just saying.
> 
> Anyways I really like hearing y'all's thoughts on last chapter and this chapter. Next chapter is the conclusion of Tim's adventure into madness. Thank you!


	41. Life, What Is It But a Dream? (Part 3)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> People self destruct; metaphorically and litterally. Now it's time to pick up the pieces and move on.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> NEARLY 15K WORDS! HOLY FUCK! Longest chapter yet! Anyways this is the end to the Tim mini-arc. Gods, I should be doing homework but I really wanted to finish this before I do anything else because if I don't then I'll be thinking about it all week.
> 
> Also, 10,000+ hits! Yay! (Even though most of them are me checking on myself!)
> 
> Next chapter we'll be back to our regularly scheduled protagonist but for now, enjoy!

“Robin! Robin! Checks this out!” The hyper auburn-haired speedster exclaims as he absentmindedly shoves himself into one of the unoccupied glass containment units. He holds his arms over his chest in an X-shape and closes his eyes before they burst open. “For thousands of years, I have laid dormant until- Woah!”

The thirteen-year-old yanks the boy out of the pod by the front of his red and white uniform while shaking him furiously. “Impulse, you can’t go jumping to evil science experiments! Who knows what could happen to you!”

“Geez Rob, you need to learn to chill.” He says to his friend in an overly relaxed manner. “I could totally run out of that thing before anything bad could happen. Besides, the entire facility doesn’t have any power.” The younger boy emphasizes his point by tapping on the flashlights strapped to each of their shoulders. “Nothing exciting will be here. That’s why Grandpa and Batman let us walk around here.”

“We’re not here to have fun, we’re here to make sure that Cadmus didn’t leave anything behind!” Robin reiterates forcefully as he sets the shorter boy on the floor.

Impulse sighs and adjusts his tinted goggles as he follows behind while occasionally illuminating random objects. The boy wonder resigns himself to being put on yet another mission with no real stakes as the pair fail to find anything of importance. It’s clear that Batman and the Flash wanted the two of them out of the way because they were kids. It was super unfair because Dick and Jason got to do cool stuff with the Teen Titans when they were his age so how come he’s the one relegated to busy work? 

Ever since the Teen Titans simply became the Titans there have been fewer teen/kid heroes around doing anything noteworthy! Tim needs his own team full of juvenile crimefighters to show up those dumb adults! He’s freaking Robin so it can’t be that hard to rally a group of kids behind his cause! He knows that Bart would definitely be on his side at the very least.

The young teen is about to confront his friend about his idea when he turns around to find him gone. Instantly the vigilante is on high alert and takes out some birdarangs in preparation for a fight. Timothy swears to the great presence above if something happened to Bart he’s going to freak out. He should’ve known something was wrong when things got quiet because Impulse is never quiet!

“Impulse?” Tim calls out experimentally as he turns in a circle to scan the area properly.

“I’m over here!” The boy shouts with a definite puberty crack in his voice. “I-I think I found something!”

Putting the weapons away, Robin stalks over to his friend standing before one of the darkened containment units with his light off. “Did you break your equipment again?”

“Yes, but that’s not the point!” He shouts before covering his mouth with both his scarlet gloved hands. “Look inside.” Bart orders in a whisper as he points to the darkened pod in front of them.

Cautiously Tim directs his flashlight up at the glass to be met with eyes as radiant as the sky boring into his soul. In shock, the boy stumbles backways and notices that it was not only eyes in the pod but a whole person! A very alive person who was staring back at him.

Timothy Jackson Drake-Wayne was on a rooftop wearing all black scrolling through the pictures on his favorite camera in the middle of the night. Even though the sun has long since descended from the starry sky the city of Metropolis is still one of the brightest places he’s ever seen as the pristine white buildings reflect all the light coming off the streets. Maybe it was a bad idea to wear all black.

He’s taken hundreds of photos but with each image passing by his heart yearned for more. How could the boy ever be satiated by mere pictures capturing moments he wasn’t a part of? It was Kon-El! He was right there and the very thought brought tears of euphoria to the corners of his eyes and a smile on his lips.

The person who was always by his side, who forgave him no matter what terrible things he did, who didn’t judge him as the horrible man Tim thought he was, who always supported him no matter how bad things got, and who would never abandon him like everyone else is real! He exists in this godforsaken world! Kon-El is real! 

All his theories and contemplations with no results were beginning to make Tim lose all hope that these visions were invading his mind just to torture him, but maybe they’ll lead him to someone he can trust like how Jonathan found Damian again. It felt as though the world made sense again and that there was someone that could fix him when he needed it the most! Kon-El was here to fill the void in his heart that his family chiseled away at for years.

However, Timothy isn’t so naive to assume everything will be the same between them. Kon, or Conner in this case, wasn’t his. At least not yet he wasn’t but it is evident by the series of events in the other teen’s life that he could be if given enough room to grow. The room that Lex Luthor refused to yield to his only “son.” The concept of Lex Luthor being a father was foreign to Tim as in his vision he doesn’t remember the man caring for anyone but himself. He especially didn’t care enough to raise two children if the images of Lena Luthor the second were to be evidence of that.

If Tim could find a way to get Conner out of his freaking home for a minute maybe he could talk to him about joining his team. The incredibly sheltered half-Kryptonian clone could be easily convinced seeing as he hasn’t experienced much else than what the walls of his tower provide him. Plus after getting the taste of adventure with Jonathan he must be craving more excitement in his life. Even without Tim’s interference, Jon is still on his side without even knowing. He feels like a proud Dad right now and makes a note in his files to buy the child something nice for Christmas.

“What’s a little birdy doing out here acting like a stray?” A sultry voice purs into his ears causing the boy to nearly fall off the ledge of the building he’s crouching on. A clawed hand grips the back of his black hoodie before he could plummet thirty stories below.

“Catwoman!” Tim gasps as he fumbles with his camera for a few seconds before hugging it to his chest like a baby. “What are you doing in Metropolis!?”

The leather-clad thief snorts at the boy’s nervous flush and straightens out his messy locks. She reaches behind her, just past her whip, to reveal a golden cat statue with heterochromatic green and blue jeweled eyes. “This baby was at the Metropolis Art and Science Museum and you know how I can’t resist.” She puts the artifact back on her person before brushing off invisible dust from the teen like a cat preening it’s young. “Now, why don’t you tell me what you’re doing all alone in the big city. I thought you grew out of these little escapades of yours once the big bad bat got you under his wing.”

Royal blue eyes glance at his camera before shifting to the LexCorp building then back to Selina. “I’m just doing some off the clock reconnaissance.”

“Oh?” She questions with an impish smile as she kneels to Tim’s height and looks at him with her feline jade-colored eyes. “And is that why you’re dressed as an amateur cat burglar instead of your pair of wings?”

Tim pouts and childishly sticks his tongue out at the older woman before defiantly turning his head away. “That’s confidential.”

“Confidential hmm… I see.” He hears her say as the click of heels on concrete moves away from him. “At least you’re taking pictures of people your own age this time. The last time I caught you with a camera on a rooftop you were chasing a grown man in a bat costume. Ooo, and he’s cute!”

“Wha-” Tim looks down at his arms to find his camera missing and in the arms of Catwoman. “How-”

Selina wags a manicured finger at him while her free hand scrolls through the digital images on the hefty device. “Don’t make any sudden move my little stray; you don’t want me dropping this.”

The teen groans in frustration and straightens his back with his arms stiffly to his side as he glares at the rouge. “What do you want from me Catwoman?”

“Now Kitten, what makes you think I want anything from you? If I want something I’ll take it myself.” She emphasizes her point by dangling Tim’s golden Rolex watch that Bruce bought for him on his birthday between her fingers causing the boy to check his person in case she stole more from him. “If anything I’m here to give you something of value.”

“Is it advice?”

“Bingo.” She coos and Timothy suddenly finds his belongings back in his arms and Catwoman directly behind him. “And maybe something more fashionable to try it out in.”

“Ack!” Gods he hates when someone pulls that on him! It’s much funnier when he does it to others. “So… You’re not going to tell Batman on me? You know what I’m doing is stalking, right? A crime.”

“I won’t tell on you if you won’t tell on me,” Selina replies as she takes off her red-tinted cat-eye goggles. “Besides, I don’t care about others as long as my kids are safe.”

“Are you ever going to make that official with B?” Tim asks her as she leads him off the building.

She shrugs as their feet hit the metal rafter and the two begin to sprint away. “We’ll see, but for now let’s make it so if you ever get caught your pictures will be the last thing on old Brucie’s mind. Maybe it’ll even get the attention of that boy you seem to fancy so much.”

“TIMOTHY WAYNE WHAT IN THE WORLD WERE YOU THINKING WEARING SOMETHING LIKE THAT LET ALONE IN PUBLIC!” Bruce screams at the top of his lungs with his face turning several new shades of red. “WHAT MADE YOU THINK THAT WEARING SOMETHING SO- SO-!”

“Gross.” Jason chimes in from behind their father making sure that he’s looking anywhere but the prepubescent teen in the skin-tight leather catsuit. “Argh, this is like a hundred levels of nope I didn’t even know existed.”

“It’s just a costume,” Tim mutters as he shifts on his heels which somehow aren’t making his legs beg for the sweet release of death. He always did wonder how Selina managed to do all she did in heels and now he’s got his answer; all of her shoes are incredibly comfy. “I wasn’t doing anything wrong.”

“Not doing- No- wha- Tim!” The man sputters as he gestures to his second youngest son. “Not only did you skip school but you’re flaunting yourself like a lady of the night!”

Jason snorts at that description and nudges Bruce in the side. “Lady of the night? Bitch he’s dressed like Catwoman.”

“I mean, she did give it to me,” Tim admits as he takes a step away from his family.

Before he could even make it a foot away his father’s hand reaches out to the zipper underneath his belly button and pulls it up as far as it could go under his collar bone. It’s obvious he wasn’t happy by the amount of skin still being shown on his son even though most of his body was stretched over with black leather. “Tim, you’re fifteen! You can’t sexualize yourself.”

“Isn’t it that other people can’t sexualize me?” The boy questions as Bruce takes off his jacket and scarf to wrap around the teen. “What if I want to be sexy?”

The very tired father pinches the bridge of his nose as he takes off Jason’s scarf and uses it to wrap around Tim’s face. “First of all, no. Second of all, Hell no. I don’t want to hear any of that coming out of your mouth until you’re eighteen.”

“It’s my body and I can do whatever I want, _Dad_!” Tim stupidly claims in a snarky tone due to his lack of sleep. It’s only after the words leave him that he realizes not only the importance of a good night’s sleep, but the back-sass of his own mind. That was the most teenage angst thing he’s ever said to B and the worst time to trigger the man’s paternal instincts by this being the first time Tim has ever called him, “Dad.”

Blue eyes stared wide-eyed at the boy in heels while the man behind him was wheezing hysterically and doing his best impression of a dying fish. Jason has to hold on to the walls with both his hands as he did his best to get enough air into his lungs to laugh at the look on his adoptive father’s face. Poor Bruce, who has stared down both the criminally insane and intergalactic dictators as Batman, appears close to tears at the thought of his child doing such a thing.

“I…” Tim says through the opening of the cotton scarf as he does his best to backpedal with the force of a steam engine. “Uh… Can we pretend I didn’t say that?”

Bruce recomposes himself, unlike Jason who devolves further into his fit and somehow covers up his teenage boy further to the point he can’t move his arms. “Okay, so you’re never leaving the manor ever again.”

“Bruce!”

“No, I am not going through this. I’m calling Selina when we get home and have a long talk with her about parental boundaries. You’re fifteen and too young to be wearing this and thinking like this!” The man argues back only for his other son next to him to undermine his authority. “Look, Tim, I’m all about the freedom of choice and self-expression. HOWEVER, you’re fifteen and living under my roof! As long as that is the case I am putting my foot down if you think this is okay attire to wear in public! I can’t believe I never noticed this before. You’re a growing young man trying to find yourself and you’re clearly heading into territory that is far too inappropriate for your age. Clothes like this could lead to a lot of things-”

“Like sex,” Jason says between wheezes.

“Jason no! He’s too young for that! I’m talking about dating!”

“Does that mean I can date people now?” Tim asks ignorantly as he peaks through the opening of the scarves.

“NO! NO YOU ARE NOT DATING! You will wait till you’re eighteen to even begin thinking about it like the rest of your siblings!”

Jason begins coughing wildly at that statement but before their father could say anything about that Superwoman floats down to the secluded alleyway the trio used to have this admittedly awkward discussion. “Did Jon get kidnapped again?” Tim questions in a semi-serious manner because if he somehow got taken again, he was going to have to start a betting pool.

The red-head wasn’t pleased to hear such an inquiry, but replies anyways. “No, it wasn’t Jon.”

Silence befalls the group as the two Wayne siblings turn to their father only to find an emptiness in their wake. Jason quickly follows Batman’s lead because as he runs out of the alley leaving Tim alone. Welp, at least Tim won’t get a lecture when he gets home, but first, he has to find a way to take off these scarves without the use of his arms.

Seeing as everyone has been busy for the past few hours looking for Damian, even though it was obvious he was on his way back to Infinity Island by now, Tim is going to take this time to do what he has been avoiding. He’s going to directly confront Conner Alexander Luthor; aka Kon-El/Superboy. Tim has been preparing for this moment for a long time, maybe even longer than he realizes. He can do this. Tim’s got this in the bag!

After peeling his tight leather catsuit from his skin and dressing in his Robin uniform Tim sneaks into Lex Tower where he easily hacks into the security system. Well, it was easy for Tim because he’s been practicing hacking into Luthor’s tech and running simulations with stolen blueprints of the building’s structure. Sure it cost him countless hours of precious slumber but it was all worth it for this very moment.

At least it would have been worth it if Tim didn’t immediately fall into a pool from three stories above that wasn’t in the blueprints. For future reference, Robin will thoroughly inspect missions such as this one better in the future. He’s thinking that sending robots out into the field first will do him wonders.

“HOLY FUCK ANOTHER PERSON!”

“SHUT UP BEFORE ANYONE HEARS YOU!”

“YOU’RE YELLING TOO!”

“OH MY GOD-” Tim takes in a deep breath as he swims out of the pool and shakes off the water at the end like a dog. “Shut your mouth!” 

This was not how he wanted their first conversation to go, but if he had to skip to the nuclear option then he will! He’ll freaking do it-

“Wait a second! You’re Robin! Like- **The** Robin and not some guy in a costume! I mean you are some guy in a costume but you’re so much cooler than that because your dad lets you fight crime for real!” Conner begins squealing as he jogs in place from the loft holding his bed. The teen quickly hops down to examine the famous young vigilante closer. “Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck! I can’t believe this is really happening to me! Robin is in MY room! Why are you here? Is it to stop my dad from one of his evil plans? I can totally help you with that! Oh my God, I can’t even! Someone pinch me!” He proceeds to pinch himself. “THIS IS REAL! AAAAAAAAHHHHH!”

“What did I just say about shutting up!” Tim hisses as he hurriedly takes both his gloved hands and puts it over Conner’s mouth. 

Tim meanwhile is having his own little moment as Kon is once again in his reach! He’s physically touching him! THIS IS REAL! Quickly the voice in his head that sounds a lot like Jason for some reason tells him to get his shit together.

Once the taller teen stopped screaming enough for Tim to feel he doesn’t have to manually hold him back he slowly takes his palms off his mouth and does the one thing Batman would kill him for. It was a risk that potentially put his family in danger because he’s jeopardizing his family’s integrity. However, this is Kon-El. Maybe not the Kon-El he’s come to know but one that was real. Everyone else in his visions, while incredibly different, had some similarities. They don’t know each other but Tim can trust him; Tim has to trust him.

Robin takes off his mask.

The clone’s jaw drops and those sky blue eyes gaze at him so intensely that the shorter teen feels his face grow flush with embarrassment and turns his face away. Tim should have dressed himself up more for the occasion because he realizes how underwhelming this has to be. He’s soaking wet, kind of cold, his hair is probably a mess and sticking to his face in weird ways, he’s been neglecting his workout routine, so his uniform is hanging off him in a certain area, he’s pale as fuck, but that’s not new- Honestly this was all a mistake! Tim was fully prepared to knock Conner out with the Kryptonian sedative he keeps on his belt at all times (Thanks B, you paranoid wreck) when Conner began screaming again.

“HOLY SHIT! My little brother knows Robin! I know Robin! You’re that weirdo that screamed in my face and who’s brother threatened me!”

Okay, ow. Tim already knew he was weird but hearing it aloud did nothing for his already nonexistent fragile self-esteem. At least Tim didn’t need to put him to sleep because he doubts that he could carry him back to his bed. “Can you please use your indoor voice?”

The bulky teenager immediately covers his mouth with both of his hands and stands very still as though the act of breathing would cause enough noise to shake the walls of his expansive room. Now that that’s out of the way Tim can finally say what he wanted to say. He opens his lips to say something when his mind goes blank. Oh no, Timothy had plans and a whole monologue ready about why he’s here outlined and rehearsed, but now that he was here he’s abruptly forgotten everything.

“I’m here because… Well, you see… It has come to my attention that- Uh- You are- are um… So the thing is… Sorry, let me start at the beginning!” The vigilante takes in a deep breath and fiddles with the domino mask in his fingers. “So there’s this whole thing going on that has to do with visions or whatever of another world and in there you’re a hero or something which isn’t that clear and I’m working on a better more convincing explanation as we speak. As I speak, you’re not speaking- actually I don’t even think you’re breathing OH MY GOD, PLEASE BREATH!”

Conner, who was beginning to turn blue from lack of air, released himself from his grasp with deep inhales.

“Okay, as I was saying! I um, you know you share DNA with Superman meaning that you have powers and stuff, and you also haven’t had any chance to use them because of reason. Y-you should totally do something about that and hey: I’m a superhero teen and you’re teen of a superhero so we should hang out- I mean in a training sort of sense, not a going out on the town sort of sense. I- not that I wouldn’t want to hang out with you because I would absolutely love to- I DIDN’T MEAN TO SAY THE L WORD! THaaaaaaat didn’t happen, and if it did I meant it platonically because you don’t know me. You… Yep, this is the first time we’re even talking to each other so that would be weird. It’s not like there was any way you could have ever known me before this or that I would have seen you before now. That would be crazy! Yep, crazy! Only a complete lunatic would do that and I’m not crazy!” 

And then Tim for whatever reason he couldn’t comprehend started to give the half-Kryptonian finger guns. God. Damn. Finger guns. WHAT? If Tim was red in the face before then he’s on freaking fire due to how hot everything is. It’s nearly November so why does he feel like he’s burning?

“You know what, I’m just gonna go back to Young Justice HQ. This didn’t happen.” Tim announces as he slaps his mask back onto his face painfully as he walks backward directly into the pool he forgot excitedly. At least he’s being cooled off.

“Wait, wait, wait!” Conner pleads as he flies the teen out of the water and begins excitedly shaking him mid-air. “I have no clue what you’re saying but I heard ‘hang-out’ and ‘Young Justice’! You have to let me in on whatever you’re here for because I am down for what you’re word-vomiting!”

Royal blue eyes blink profusely from behind the opaque whites of the mask as he dumbly stares at the male holding him. “I-... Yes. That’s why I’m here.” Come on Tim, you got this. He’s always been good at working under pressure! This citation shouldn’t be any different! He is Robin and Robin does not panic! Tim recomposes himself to the best of his ability and puts on a neutral expression. “We at Young Justice have taken an interest in you,” Technically not a lie, “Due to your background and potential abilities we want to if you would be interested in-”

“YES!” Conner hollers in ecstasy and begins spinning around in the air as Timothy does his best to hang on for dear life. “I’ve dreamed of this day all my life and it’s actually happening! What do I need to do!? Is there paperwork? Do you need my dad’s permission cause let me tell you now it doesn’t matter because he can go fuck himself-”

“No, there isn’t an initiation… I mean we’ll probably need to test the limits of your powers to see what you’re capable of but other than that we don’t have a formal-”

“GREAT!” And then he drops Robin back into the pool.

Timothy was already nauseous from the spinning and being dropped from several yards high didn’t help the matter at all. Once he climbed about out again he finds Conner rifling through several bookshelves above him as he looks down at the drenched hero. “Sorry about that! I’ve been meaning to ask dad to install a net or something there for my books. It would probably stop me from dropping people in the water too. Actually-” The superpowered boy flies to one of the nearby walls with a control panel embedded into it and pulls a switch that causes a platform painted like a basketball court to cover the waters. “There we go!”

“Great, now when I fall I’ll land on soft concrete.” Tim thinks to himself as he shakes off the water.

Conner takes out a Superman-themed composition notebook and hands it to Tim with the demeanor of a puppy being given a treat. Timothy didn’t know what to expect from the childish notebook but after opening it he was pleasantly surprised to find detailed records on Conner’s powers. Sure the handwriting left something to be desired, but the records were skillfully comprehensive. There were even adorable little pictures he drew in the corner of the pages like a flipbook.

The other teen shyly scratches the shaved underside of his head as he taps the pages of the book with his free hand. “I’ve always wanted to be a superhero! Travel the world and have people chanting my name as they do for Superman. Dad always told me I had the potential to be someone better than him, but how can that be possible if I’m stuck in this tower all the time? So… I’ve been training my powers in secret while he’s away. I’m not that good at it but I’ve discovered that I can do things not even Superman can! Check this out!”

Conner stands far away from Tim and puts his hands on his hips. For a whole minute, Tim doesn’t see anything as he cocks his head to the side to get a better look at… whatever this is. “Uh… What am I supposed to be seeing?”

He jolts at the question before smacking his head. “Whoops! Sorry! Uh… I made a force field. Try and walk closer!”

Robin sticks his arms out as he slowly moves towards the other only to be stopped before he could even get close. “Woah… amazing.” The gloved hand slides across the invisible surface in amazement as Conner walks around it next to him.

“Yeah, I know I am.” He says smugly, puffing his chest out in pride. “When Supergirl was chasing me I also discovered it can deflect lasers! How cool am I?”

“Conner, this is amazing!” Tim exclaims as flips through the pages of the book. He was doing his best to commit the information to memory because he’ll never get a chance like this again! Sure, the information was good but that’s not what impressed the teenager the most. The young Wayne prided himself on his attentive information gathering but this was almost on the same level as him! Everything it dates and each new development was highlighted and holy crap there was a legend for all of the color-coded marks! “Do you have more?”

Some might say that keeping intensive notes of oneself is incredibly narcissistic. Those people are right but fuck’em cause Conner literally had nothing better to do! Five years is a long time to be stuck in one place so he had to keep himself occupied somehow! The two of them spent hours pouring over the notes and talking about Conner. It was nice as the younger teen spilled everything about himself to someone who was essentially a stranger, but the only person around his age he’s met.

Tim saw it was getting late meaning he had to leave before anyone realized he was gone. “Batman is expecting me home by now.” He says but doesn’t move from his spot on the floor next to Conner. He doesn’t want to leave.

It was obvious Conner didn’t want him to leave either for different reasons. “I… Can we see each other again?”

Tim thinks about it for a second then reaches into his utility belt for his spare communicator. “Here, I’ll use this to contact you. Don’t let your dad see it.”

“Wow…” Conner gasps as he gawks at the phone in his hands. “I won’t! I’ve got the perfect hiding spot for this!”

“Maybe next time we can meet up at my place! We can run some tests and see what your powers are capable of.” He says as an excuse for them to spend more time together and writes down his address on the empty blank pages of one of the composition books. “If you ever need anything, and I mean ANYTHING at all just tell me and I’ll do my best to make it happen!” The vigilante stands up and takes out his grappling gun to shoot at the vent where he entered when a large hand envelopes his wrist.

“Wait! I never got your name!” The other teen yells looking up at him from the floor. “You already know about me so it’s not fair I don’t even get to know your name.”

Robin smiles at him and he feels a piece of his heart crack seeing such a familiar expression on Kon’s face as it’s one he knows of well; loneliness. “My name is Tim.”

Christopher Kent is the first son of Superman. Or at least he was supposed to be, yet that is far from the case. Far from the chipper child or somber man he was in a past life this version of him was concerning in a multitude of ways. Before Jonathan Chris was always a figure in the Kent family ever since being adopted by them at the age of twelve. He wasn’t hidden from the world like Jonathan and given room to grow into his own. This man however was a stranger integrating himself into the Kryptonians’ home using memories that were not his.

Tim is still pissed off he fell for the glasses disguise when they met, but what’s worse is that Chris wasn’t a complete stranger to him. This wasn’t some completely new Christopher with a whole new life. No, this was his Chris Kent, and that knowledge put him on edge more than Tim would ever like to admit.

His life was different but everything else about him was the same. How and why, if the man has had these visions he and Jon are now getting all of his life, is he choosing to appear in front of them now? He’s had visions for nineteen years but for some reason, he is only choosing to say something about it now. Something fishy is going on and Tim is going to get to the bottom of it.

… At least once he’s allowed outside the manor because Bruce is currently giving him the lecture of a lifetime.

“You invited a boy over to the house! A boy who you are romantically interested in!”

“B, it’s not what you think!”

“Oh really!?” He shouts, throwing his hands up while his two older siblings laugh at his misfortune. “What in the world am I supposed to think when a teenage boy goes rummaging outside the bushes of your room Tim? I was a teenager once too, I know what was going on!”

“Nothing was going to happen!” Tim whines and throws his head on the back of the couch while covering his face with his hands. “We’re just friends!”

“A friend that you were dating in some other dimension or reality or mindscape! A friend who had to sneak into the mansion and who you wanted to do it at night!”

This was going to take a while.

“Which is why I am going to give you The Talk. You’re a growing boy and even though you’re smart your hormones and other parts of your body will feel like they take more importance than your common sense.” Someone, please kill Tim, he doesn’t know what he did to deserve this torture.

A mother box: one of the most dangerous pieces of technology known to man. They have the power to teleport armies across solar systems, manipulate machines, bend reality, and have near-omniscient knowledge. They’re also forged by the New Gods using a material that Tim knows shouldn’t exist.

“Scientists at STAR Labs in Metropolis are currently researching a unique ancient device that might be connected to the technology of other planets. With the help of visiting scientist, Dr. Jonathan Osterman researchers are hopeful for results that will revolutionize current technology into a new age.”

That’s what the news report stated earlier that morning as Tim headed out for school. He’s never noticed it until now but his world was seriously lacking in alien invasions. That’s not to say that’s a bad thing, but in his visions a new catastrophe occurred on a yearly if not monthly basis. Here they only occur every couple of years. He never put any thought into the phenomenon before, but it must be because of the lack of any reliable teleportation. The intrinsic field could do so much however it wasn’t anything compared to the raw power of Element X.

If those scientists start to mess with that device then who knows the kinds of chaos it would create! Tim has to stop them, but he has to do it alone. He couldn’t drag his teammate into something so dangerous without knowing the repercussions and if he were to tell Batman then the Justice League would take it. There was no safe way to do this but Tim has to try!

Although… maybe it wasn’t a good idea to bring Conner along with him. What can Tim say other than he’s fifteen and fucking weak to puppy dog eyes. 

“Holy shiiiiiiiiiiiiiiit I can’t believe this is happening!” The teen squeals as he’s shaking with so much enthusiasm Tim thinks he might vibrate through the walls like Bart does. His goofy novelty Superman cape flows behind him as it’s the only thing the male has to signify he’s wearing a uniform. Sure he’s got the red Superman symbol on the chest of his black t-shirt, but the light jeans don’t really give a heroic aura.

“We’re only here to get the case. After that, we have to get out as fast as we can without getting detected, understood?” 

Conner waves off the shorter teen’s concern and pats him on the head like a dog… what the fuck? “Yeah yeah, whatever. I totally got this~” He tells Tim and pounds on his own chest with his fist. “Just look at me? I am a man who has it all together. This’ll be easy. We’ll be outta here in no time Robin.”

Tim has absolutely no idea where this guy’s confidence comes from seeing as this is his first mission, but it was cute in a weird way. The two of them sneak through the corridors of the laboratory which was relatively easy as the only obstacles on their path are the untrained scientists and an easily hackable security system. Now all the vigilante has to do is cut off the lights, take the target, and run. Conner hopefully won’t even have to do anything if all goes well.

“Hey, who are those guys?” The inexperienced hero asks as he points to a group of cloaked figures around the device Robin was here for.

One of their heads turns towards him and Tim facepalms as he notices that he can’t see their eyes from behind their owl-shaped masks. “I don’t know but it’s not good. All I know is that they can’t get the mother box.”

“They kind of look like ninjas,” Conner whispers with an odd sense of glee. “Holy shit ninja are real!”

Timothy does not have the time to educate the taller teen on the history of ninjas and explain that, no, those are not ninjas. “We’ll need to find a quick way inside before they leave.” He takes out his pocket laptop and begins to try and gain access into the room’s system. “If Lex Luthor gave you any hacking knowledge to help us get into that room now would be a good time to use it.”

Conner rolls up a nonexistent sleeve and gives the other boy a toothy grin. “Naw fam, I got this. I’m gonna make a door.”

Instantly knowing what was about to happen the fifteen-year-old stands up to hold him back from destroying the wall. “That’s not how doors work-”

“Too late!” Then Conner proceeds to punch an enormous hole in the building.

Timothy Jackson Drake-Wayne needs to learn how to stop compromising his own plans. The teen drags his pale hands down his face as he goes through the motions of acting like a disgruntled teen being scolded by his parents. Wasn’t that what he was though? In the last four or so months he’s gained enough memories to age him into young adulthood at the very least. He’s been having a difficult time relating to his friends or the people at his new school which would have hurt him if it wasn’t for the fact that all of those things seemed trivial. He was both an adult and a teenager in the same body.

“Timothy, are you even listening to me, young man?” Bruce shouts and closes his fist on the thick sleeve of his training gi. The man already has to deal with so much as Batman and his other children. He doesn’t deserve to have Tim as his son. He never deserved to be dishonored by a son who couldn’t be fixed.

“I hear you loud and clear.” He snarls and takes his Robin mask off to throw at the broad man. “I freaking hear you loud and clear! I know I’m a fuck up! Just take the stupid mask from me! Take Robin from me just like you did Dick and Jason because that’s all you know how to do when we don’t act like you want! At least that’s what it feels like when you’re around enough to be disappointed in me!”

Batman doesn’t even attempt to dodge the mask hurling towards him as he stands there with wide eyes along with the rest of his family in the tiny break room they were all shoved inside. The mask clatters to the tiled floor where the sound echoes in the room where the entire Wayne family stood breathless. His father takes a step closer with an outstretched hand to set on his shoulder, but Tim simply slaps it away from him.

Always the mediator between the family, Nightwing takes off his blue mask and walks towards his little brother. “Timmy, I don’t understand. I know B isn’t the best communicator-” The man in question grunts at that statement. “But all we want to do is help you. Whatever is happening to you is changing you to where you’re not thinking straight. And we’re not taking Robin away from you, right?” He gives Bruce a fierce look and he nods in agreement.

“I let my anger get the better of me when I made that decision but it still stands. I’m not making you quit, I simply want you to take some time to yourself and evaluate what you’re doing. I’m not pleased with how you’ve been acting and I know you aren’t either. I’m sorry I didn’t do anything about sooner, that I let it get to this point, but-”

“For the ‘World’s Greatest Detective’ you’re so fucking blind,” Jason shouts and points at the younger teen. “He’s been spiraling for months and none of you noticed! I’ve been trying to reach out to him the first week this shit has been going down, but you only decided to take measures after you discovered he was harboring a nuke of a child along with him! Not when he started consuming caffeine like a drug, not when he kidnapped Jon the first time, not when we found him walking down Metropolis wearing that skimpy ass outfit-”

“I’m sorry, he did what?” Dick chimes in, but is promptly ignored.

“Not when he blew up STAR Labs, but when he helps a child get so fucking stress he literally blows up!”

“I know!” The older man replies then takes off his cowl, hair strewn and eyes heavy with dark bags. “I know I should have done more than ground him! I should have gotten him help! I thought if I found the cause of whatever was happening I could do something about it without involving Tim! That’s why I’ve been working non-stop with Christoper and the rest of the JLA! I should have gotten him help, but don’t make it sound like I was doing nothing while I was watching my son become a different person!”

“You think sweet little Christopher Kent was ever going to help you with anything?” Tim spits out and looks up at his family with eyes open so wide he feels as though they might fall out of their sockets. “You’d trust a stranger who never got to live through childhood in both lives to give you advice on your own kids?” He grins to the point his thin dry lips crack as they stretch impossibly far to the corners of his face. “I feel so sorry for you! What kind of nonsense did that bastard feed you? Oh, I know! Did he tell you how he only wanted what was best for his family? Did he apologize for his mistakes and give you the excuse that he did what he could?”

“Tim…” Bruce chokes out sounding close to tears. Why was he crying? It’s better for them to see how broken he is now before they get too invested in him.

“What, am I scaring you? Do you hate who I am now?” He teases and stands up but is still far too short to reach the towering man’s eyes level. “I always knew you would hate what I’ve become! You were always such a fucking hypocrite!”

“Tim this isn’t you,” He says although the teen believed it was more to convince himself rather than Tim. “These are your thoughts, a different version of you taking over. It’s not you, son. Please stop-”

“Stop! You want me to STOP?” He barks in a hideous laugh before going into a hysterical fit to rival the Joker. “HahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahaHAHAHAHAHAHAH Y-you- HAhAH! You make it sound like I’m possessed!”

“You’re not possessed, you’re just confused!”

“I’ve never thought more clearly in my life!” Tim lies as he stifles down his giggles.

Damian, who has been staring at Tim as though meeting him for the first time, stood up from his seat next to Cassandra from across the room and walked to him. He pushes past his brothers and father until he looks up at him with those unnaturally sharp Lazarus eyes of his. “What… what is Jonathan, your Jonathan, like?”

“Dami,” Dick says and pulls the ten-year-old away from him. Good. “Go back with Cassandra-”

“No, I have to know!” He insists, still looking up at Tim. "I’ve never known the Drake you knew! I’ve never known Jonathan before this! The Drake you see now and the Jonathan we know are the only ones I’ve ever experienced! I have to know, I need to know the kind of person Jonathan is becoming.”

“Jonathan isn’t going to become anything. We’ll put a stop to it before he gets this far.” Bruce tells his son but Damian’s eyes don’t leave Tim’s face.

The teenager’s strained grin drops from his face as he looks at his little brother. He was so very young and was taken from his family, yet his first objective is to ask about his only friend. “Jon, my Jon, was a good boy and an even better son.” He explains and Bruce looks as though he has to sit down, which he does. “He deserved so much better than the life I gave him. Do you remember how you tried to manipulate him into becoming a tool for you?”

Solemnly Damian nods. “Yes, and I promised him I wouldn’t do it to him again.”

Tim gives him a small smile but it vanishes before it fully forms. “Where you failed, I succeeded.” The child’s covered fingers twitch, as though looking for a sword but the rest of his body was deathly still. “But even after all I put him through he still managed to forgive me. I don’t know where he keeps finding this well of forgiveness and compassion, but every time I think I run it dry more keeps flowing out. He’s been like that long before I got to him. He only wants to see the best in people even though people are horrible and only want to hurt him. I became extremely pessimistic with age while he still stayed cheerful. I don’t know how he does it, but I assume it must be a Kent thing. I guess the saying is true, you really do become your father when you grow up.”

No one says anything so Tim takes that as an invitation to continue. “That isn’t to say he wasn’t as broken as the rest of us. When almost everyone in his life just up and dies something was bound to snap. He’s desperate to cling onto what keeps him happy. Maybe that’s why he’s so hung up on the memory of a little boy who died so many years ago.”

“But it didn’t happen,” Bruces says, snapping Tim out of his stupor. “Tim, you have to separate yourself from your visions. Even if they did happen in some world it’s not this one. You’re not that Tim. You’re our Tim: you’re fifteen and just started your sophomore year at school. You’re not the man who you say you are right now.”

“True, but it doesn’t mean I don’t feel like it didn’t happen.” He takes a deep breath and turns around. “I’m going to step out of the room for a minute, I need some space.”

No one follows him as he gets out of the room. There was no need to as he made sure not to leave the visibility of the door. He needed to clear his mind, take a step back, and see what he was doing. Why was Tim always his worst enemy? Every time something in his life might go his way Tim ruins it by opening his stupid mouth?

Loud footsteps echo through the spacious halls of the Watchtower headed in his direction. He sees Conner run his way and Tim can’t help but feel guilty for possibly ruining his life on a whim. Tim should never have brought him along on this mission. The other teen’s life was finally looking up and he stole it from him and from Jon. Conner probably wanted to yell at Tim as well and Tim would deserve it.

“Conner, I want to apologize for-” But he doesn’t get to finish his sentence as the larger teenager slaps the frame of the door his family is behind and throws Tim over his shoulder. “HEY, WHAT THE HECK!?” He shouts as he pounds the half-Kryptonian’s back frantically.

“TIM!”

Bruce and Jason instantly try to run out into the hall only to find an invisible barrier blocking their entrance. Cass and Dick take a far more creative approach and waste no time breaking the low ceiling tiles to climb inside and out of the room. Conner runs away with Tim to the teleporters he doesn’t know how to use and puts Tim down in front of the control panel standing over him.

“You once told me that if I needed anything, you’d do your best to make it happen.” The enraged clone hisses as he slams his fist on the edge of the circular metal rim of the teleporter. “Well, I’m calling your bluff. I need you to take me out of here, anywhere. Somewhere neither of my dads can get to me right away!”

Tim looks back where he came but Conner forcefully grabs his chin, and forces him to look into those sky blue eyes. He’s never noticed it before but they’re shaped awfully like Luthor’s. “I don’t have all day; I can only hold up my shields for so long. Were you lying when you said you’d help me?”

He’s never been terrified of Kon-El before, but his dad was right. This isn’t his world and he’s not that Tim. Now it’s more clear than it was before seeing Conner, the son of Lex Luthor, threaten him with his eyes. Even though he knows that, and Tim DOES know that, it’s difficult because he still feels all those emotions. He still has all those wonderful memories.

And so he helps him.

Timothy Jackson Drake-Wayne hasn’t been home for a long time. It’s not that he doesn’t want to come home, but quite honestly he needs some time to figure himself out. He’s kept himself occupied by helping get Kon-... Conner integrated into Young Justice. Once his teammates heard about Conner, how he was created, how he was locked away, and saw the collar they put on him, everyone was more than ready to welcome the hybrid into their group with open arms. 

Tim has a feeling the gesture was not only because they empathized with him but because of the teenage, “Authority can go fuck itself,” mentality. There was no better authority figure they love to hate more than the villainous corporate dictator who was also a controlling father; Lex Luthor. He was like the embodiment of everything they hate all rolled up into one person.

Conner has made himself at home in the YJ Headquarters, happily enjoying his newfound freedom. True freedom without the expectation he has to go home. All of his team has taken to their new member in different ways with Bart and Cassie being especially hospitable. Impulse is more than glad to have a friend who is as willing as he is to do dumb things with. Tim has always indulged the younger speedster, but he was also the voice of reason.

An example of this is when he wanted to go down Mount Justice with a skateboard and dive into the ocean. Tim had to point out not only was that a terrible idea, but that only one of them knew how to skateboard and it wasn’t Bart. That was not a good day to be Tim.

With Conner around, there was no one to tell them, “no” when they were doing something stupid. It was like an echo chamber of juvenile stupidity that ends in a new hole in the wall that each of them fondly calls shortcuts. This makes no sense because both of them have super speed and don’t need it. Cassie on the other hand...

“Hey, cutie!” He winks at the muscular blonde with shoulder-length blonde hair. “Was your mother a beaver? ‘Cause damn!”

Wonder Girl rolls her eyes and smiles at the stupid teen walking up to the breakfast bar. When he’s close enough she flicks his shades to the top of his forehead. “When are you going to stop with those cheesy pick-up lines?”

He shoots her the finger-guns and winks at her. “Either when you tell me to stop or I run out of lines. I have like a bajillion more to go so don’t worry.”

“He’s not Kon,” Tim tells himself as he walks past his friends with his coffee. “He’s never going to be mine.”

Tim has been telling himself this every day, he’s not stupid. Conner isn’t Kon-El. Then why… Why does it still hurt so much!?

Why, in a world that is so much better and filled with so much happiness compared to the one that invades his dreams, does he not get to be happy? His life is so much better now than it was before so why can’t he be happy!? Even though his life was shit with Kon-El he felt some sort of joy in his life. What is wrong with Tim?

His parents are alive and didn’t get killed by villains, Bruce makes an effort to bond with him, his siblings are all together, and he has time to be more than Robin, Red Robin, or Batman! This world is so much better so why doesn’t he feel better!?! Why is he so ungrateful?! He hates this! He hates himself! He’s always hated himself!

He spends the rest of his day in his room working on anything he can. Schoolwork, closed cases, open cases he has no responsibility sticking his nose in, anything to take his mind off the crippling loneliness he feels. He could go out and talk to his friends and family but he still feels alone while surrounded by people. He’s always felt like that ever since he was a kid.

Jonathan Samuel Kent is an imaginative child with many aspirations in life. These aspirations fluctuate with the fluidity of oil on water, however, they are still valid nonetheless. He wanted to be a policeman, a reporter, a teacher, a superhero, and with his best friend forever. Jon was somehow able to accomplish one of those, so now he’s… He’s lost. He’s lost and surprisingly very lonely. He hasn’t seen Damian since he blew up the school, his family hasn’t done their family movie nights for some reason, and his friends all live far away from him. Jon is beginning to think that his parents are purposefully keeping Damian from him except… except that’s simply an excuse he’s made for himself. The young boy hasn’t asked to see Damian; if anything Jonathan is actively avoiding him because every time he asks to talk to his boyfriend, his fiance, he’s busy.

Busy with Colin.

“My apologies Mistress Kent, I am very disappointed to tell you that young Master Damian is out on the town with Gordon’s charge, Colin. He won’t be back for at least an hour.” Jon hears Alfred through the speakers of his mother’s cell phone.

“By themselves? In Gotham?” Lois questions in concern.

“Well, it’s a fair bit better of a stroll than what the rest of this family believes to be an acceptable pastime.”

“That is true.” She agrees with a nod and leans her elbows on the kitchen counter. “Can you get me connected to Bruce? We need to talk about the Winter Formal arrangements.”

“Of course, one moment if you please.”

While she’s put on hold the brunette woman looks to her son and the boy quickly scarfs down all of his marshmallow cereal with a vengeance to make it appear he wasn’t intently listening in on the phone call. “Sorry about that Sweetheart, how about we try again in a few hours?”

Jonathan swallows the half-chewed food, scratching his throat in the process, and replies with a course, “No, that’s fine! I’m busy!” That’s a lie, he’s not busy. He’s so not busy in fact, his plans for the day consist of staring at the ceiling. “I’ve got so many plans! I’ll be busy all day!”

“Really now?” She snickers, not believing anything Jon is insistently telling her. “Do these plans consist of doing your homework?”

The second-grader’s forced cheerfulness immediately sags into complete disdain at the implication and the half-Kryptonian visibly shutters at the very thought. “Noooo… I’m… going to do _stuff_.” 

“I see!” She chortles while covering the receiver of her phones. “Well, I sure hope these important plans don’t involve you going out. Chris is going to see Conner and your father and I are going to be working from home today.” 

“Why?” The boy questions since this is the first time he’s hearing about this.

Lois leans her elbows up on the island counter of their kitchen and replies, “Well SOMEONE decided that our office was the perfect landing spot for an energy-sapping Parasite.”

“I already said I’m sorry Lois!” Clark calls from the living room apologetically.

“I know, but it still sucks!” She shouts back playfully before looking back to her son at the table. “If you need anything we’ll be in our office, but remember to knock in case we’re in the middle of a meeting.”

Chris looks up from the back of Jonathan’s cereal box he was solving the maze on and tells his mother, “I can look after Jon if you two are going to be busy.”

Lavender eyes blink at the man before the reporter shakes her head. “It’s fine Chris, you wanted to see Conner alone.”

“No, it’s fine.” The brunet insists, patting the child’s fluffy ebony hair. “Besides, if I got this little bundle of cuteness with me he might let us in this time instead of turning me away like Dad. I have a pretty good track record of not losing Jon.”

“Don’t let Kara hear you say that.” Lois jokes before thinking for a few seconds. “Besides, Jon seems super busy with those _mysterious_ plans of his-”

“I wanna go!” He shouts, puffing up his cheeks and throwing his hands straight up into the air. “I lied, I’m not busy! I wanna go visit Conner and Young Justice!”

“Wow, you cave fast.” His mother notes with a smile. “Alright, you can go but remember to keep him on his leash and no powers or TV.”

“Yes, Mom.” The man agrees then continues to eat his food. “We’ll leave right after we finish breakfast, okay?”

Without even saying a word, the little half-Kryptonian shoves the rest of his meal into his mouth and swallows without chewing. Jon washes down his meal with a cup of orange juice before staking his dishes together. “DONE!”

He shoves his chair back and hops off the seat where he proceeds to stumble on the leg then nearly faceplants on the patterned white and blue tile of the kitchen. His older brother quickly catches him, dropping his egg sandwich on the floor before the child could make contact. Chris sets him back on his feet and leaves to clean up his wasted breakfast off the ground.

Before Chris heads to the supply closest it occurs to Jonathan that he doesn’t know where his backpack is. He tugs at his brother’s shirt and asks, “Can you get my backpack?”

“Sure thing.” He agrees as he grabs the broom. “Put on your shoes and brush your teeth, then we can go.”

“Okay, thank you!” He nods and runs out of the kitchen but slips at the doorways causing him to thoroughly slam into the frame face first.

“Jon!” His mother and brother scream at the deafening bang of his skull hitting wood.

“I’m okay!” He reassures as he ignores the throbbing bruise on his head and takes off his socks before proceeding with his action. “No socks in the kitchen, I learned my lesson.” With that, he leaves the area and doesn’t stop in the living room to talk to his dad. He continues up the stairs to his room and closes the door to his room. Climbing up the ladder to his bed his fingers grab the Damian plushie next to his pillow. He wishes he could be with real Damian but he’s too busy doing stuff without Jon.

That jerkface is hiding something from Jonathan and he’ll get to the bottom of it! How can Jon learn to trust him again if he’s not around to tell him anything? At least Better Dami doesn’t hide anything from him.

Once Jon is done getting ready he pulls at his collar and walks up to his parents’ office where Chris and his dad were waiting for him next to the teleporter. Christopher holds up the backpack and straps Jonathan inside it while their father gets the coordinates to their location. “Chris-,'' He starts to say warningly.

“I know, I know. I won’t let Jon do anything dangerous.”

“And-”

“And if anything happens I’ll fly Jon home right away.”

“And-”

“And I pack him some fruit snacks.”

“One more thing-”

“I will text you every fifteen minutes to half an hour so you know that we’re okay.” He laughs as he holds up his cellphone.

Clark smiles and shakes his head. “I’m glad that you will but that wasn’t what I was going to say.” He walks up to both of his boys and kneels gives them a tight hug. “I was going to say I love you.”

“Love you too Dad.” Chris tells their father as he uses one arm to embrace the man tightly for a second before letting go.

“Bye Dad, I love you.” Jon says and shoves the Damian plushie in his father’s face. “Say bye to Dami.”

Clark looks at the doll with a rather irritated expression stitched onto its face hesitantly. “Um… bye?”

Jonathan nods in approval and hugs the toy against the front of his puffy blue winter jacket. “Good.” He and Christopher stand at the teleporter with the latter holding the end on the backpack’s leash and wave goodbye to their father as a bright blue light envelops them.

Instead of standing in the Young Justice Headquarters like Jon anticipated the two Kents find themselves outside on a beach next to the mountain the base is located at. Jonathan has never been to the seaside during winter but he never expected it to be utterly freezing! He knew it was December, but it never came to his mind that beaches could be cold!

“C-Chr-Chris?” Jon calls out through chattering teeth. “D-d-did Dad pu-put in the wr-wrong directions?”

Unphased by the frigid temperatures, the full-blooded Kryptonian picks up the seven-year-old and begins walking to the front of the headquarters. “No, Young Justice hacked the teleporters in such a way that anyone trying to go inside will be redirected. This is so that no one will drop in on them unexpectedly.”

“Th-they can do that?” That didn’t sound safe at all if anyone could do it.

“Tim can do that.” Chris corrects begrudgingly.

By the time the two make it to one of the base's more secret entrances, Jon’s cheeks have gone red due to the cold. The child was lying in his older brother’s arms and puffing hot air out of his mouth into the cold at random intervals to create fog when a voice stops them at the face of the mountainside. “What do you want?”

Oh hey, that was Conner!

“Conner, let me in.” Chris pleads as he looks for the camera watching them.

“What, so you can yell at me more?”

“Conner, I’m not here to yell at you-”

Jon finds where the camera was embedded in the rock and stares at it with a smile. “Hi, Conner!”

“... Hi Jon.” His younger big brother greets politely.

“Can we come in?” Jon asks as he looks up at the lens.

“Um… No?”

“But I’m cold.” He says as though it was the answer to everything.

“... Jon, I have nothing against you but if I let you in then I have to let Chris in-”

Jon pouts at the device and reaches into his pocket for his pack of gummy snacks. He proceeds to chuck the package at the camera. “Why are you being a butt? Lemme in.”

“Are you throwing trash at me?!” Conner shouts and several voices in the background begging to laugh.

Jon throws more gummies at the wall.

“Stop that! It’s littering!”

The small child stares at the lens for a few seconds blankly then throws another packet at him.

“How many of those do you have!?”

“I dunno but I’ll keep throwing more until you let me in.” He proves his point by hurling more snacks at him. “It’s cold. I don’t like being cold.”

“Jon, I’m not giving in! Go home!”

Large blue eyes stare up at the wall before the boy pats a red cotton gloved hand against Chris’ cheek. Cautiously he sets the boy down, unsure of what he wants but gets his answer as soon as the boy begins to slide his fingers along the surface of the stone. He rubs the area for a few seconds before violently slamming his head on the flat surface hard enough to induce bleeding.

“HOLY SHIT!”

“JON WHY!?” Chris screams as he takes his brother into his arms and is about to fly home when Jon begins screaming his little head off.

“AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHH!” Instantly the area the little boy slammed his face against opens outward like a door and accidentally hits Jonathan again causing him to shout more. “AAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHH!”

An extremely haggard-looking Tim in a wrinkled red shirt and skinny jeans appears from inside and picks up the second-grader. “Chris, why the Hell did you let him do that!?”

“I didn’t let him! How the heck was I supposed to know he’d do something like that?! He was rubbing the walls, I thought he might’ve known about some secret key inside!”

“I saw it on TV!” Jon yells as he continues to cry in pain.

“Jon, you’re grounded from TV for a reason!”

Tim drags his hands down his face and holds the door open for the two brothers. “GET INSIDE AND GIVE HIM FIRST AID!”

Immediately the man carries his sibling inside the fortress to the main living area where Conner, Cassie, and Bart stood around the security monitor. In a flash, the shorter auburn-haired teen zips in and out of the room with a hefty first aid kit. Chris begins to treat his brother’s self-inflicted injuries as said injured boy sniffles while hugging his plushie.

“It hasn’t even been thirty minutes and you might already be concussed. What the heck am I going to tell Dad?” Chris grumbles to himself as he wraps the bandages around the boy’s forehead.

“That I hit my head on a wall.” Jon supplies unhelpfully.

“Okay, I wasn’t talking about that!” That doesn’t make sense to the boy because he just said that, so isn’t that what he was talking about? Oh well, at least they were inside now. It wasn’t what Jonathan planned, but he’s not going to question what works. Almost as if he didn’t just slam his head into a wall, Jonathan gets over his short-lived physical trauma relatively quick and hops off the couch and up to Conner who was staring at him in disbelief. “Hi!”

“Jon, are you okay?”

“I dunno.” He replies honestly as he shrugs his shoulders. “By the way, Lena really misses you. You should call her.” 

The teen looks away from him with an unreadable painful expression and nods his head. “I… yeah. I know.”

“She tried to kill me. That’s how much she misses you.” Jon elaborates with a smile.

“I kno- Wait, no. What?”

Jonathan ignores the question and looks back at his eldest brother. “Chris, you can talk to Conner now! I’m going to press all of the buttons!”

“Jon no!”

“Jon YES!” Jon shouts as he slaps the many buttons on the security monitor causing a variety of flashing lights to go off around them like a dance hall. “Ooooo, pretty!”

“Jonathan Samuel Kent!” Chris screeches as he runs up to the boy and yanks him off the controls. “Jonathan, you are in someone else’s home and what you’re doing is extremely rude!”

“I’m causing a distraction!” The seven-year-old declared in a victorious war cry. “Nuclear option!”

Tim winces at that set of words and slowly takes Jonathan from Chris’s hands. “Oooooookay. That… That is my fault. That is on me.” Jon kicks the console from his newfound height causing the base’s sprinkler system to turn on. “Nope, okay, I am just going to take the child and unteach him all of that!”

“Tim!” Cassie scolds as she is being continuously drenched in water. “What the hell are you teaching that little boy!?”

“I’m sorry, I’ll fix it!” He shouts and runs to take him away from everybody. “You go… I don’t freaking know, talk to your family or whatever! I’ll take care of Jon!” The teen runs to his room with the boy and closes the door before sliding down its steel surface with his back. “Jon-” The pale teenager begins to chastise but stops when he sees the boy looking at him funny. “What?”

The single light dangling from the ceiling behind Jon cast the child’s face in a dark shadow making appear much older than he was due to the lack of detail. Even though Tim is sitting on the ground Jonathan isn’t that much taller than him, but enough to where his shadow envelopes him. The boy sighs and takes off his wet jacket and gloves along with his backpack. The elementary schooler drops it on the ground unceremoniously and looks down at Tim almost pitifully. He was going to be here a while so he might as well get comfortable.

“Tim,” Jon says quietly, but not quite a whisper. “You’re not okay.”

Royal blue eyes stare up at Jon in disbelief. “Did you cause all that just so you could lecture me?”

The child nods his head. “I learned that I can just do stuff and then things end up going my way. I didn’t know it would work! Either I get to finally talk to you or I get into a horrible situation with evil people. Fifty percent is still passing so I’ll take those chances!”

“Holy crap, you weaponized your chaos.” He groans and covers his face. “And you don’t understand metaphors.”

“I don’t even know what metaphor means, but that’s not why I’m here.” He announces with a somber appearance. “I’m not here to lecture you because that means I know more than you do and I don’t. I don’t know anything and it’s kinda making me mad.” He moves to the floor and sits in front of the teenager criss-cross-applesauce style. “I don’t know anything, but at the same time, I know too much. Kids in my class worry about dumb things like their vacation or who gets to be it during tag. I worry about the end of the world and waiting for the people I love to die even though I know they’re safe from what killed them in a different reality. Kathy has told me the way I speak has changed from before any of this happened. I started speaking like the other Jon who is so much older and also younger than I am at the same time. 

“Someone else is doing the growing up for me and no one else understands except you, but you never want to talk about anything. You want to keep everything inside because you’ll feel more alone when no one else can relate to you. There is and I’m right here.”

Tim tucks in his knees and buries his face in his legs with a long exhale. “Why?”

“Why what?” Jon asks.

“Why is it always you talking to me like an adult when I’m supposed to be the older one?” He clarifies with a soft chuckle at the end of his words. “I… I’m just a burden, Jon. I do and say stupid things all the time that ends up hurting me and the people around me.”

The boy sways side to side quietly thinking about his words before speaking. “So am I, but no one blames me for it because I’m just a kid, I don’t know better because I’m young. You’re not that much older than me so how come people blame you?”

“I’m supposed to be growing up into an adult-”

“Well duh, that’s how age works, dummy.”

“Name-calling? Really?”

“Well, you’re being dumb because I don’t get it.” He says sternly with his hands on his hips. “We’re both being messed up cause we aren’t talking about it! It makes us uncomfortable! I don’t know what the adults want us to do! I know they want to know everything about us but what about us, Tim! What about after!”

“They want us to work everything out in therapy until we’re back to our respective normals,” Tim explains, still not looking at Jonathan.

“But we’re still going to have these feelings for people we don’t know. It’s unfair!” He exclaims and scratches the hair above his bandages. “I don’t know if what I feel for Dami is because I feel it or if it’s because I have feelings for a different Damian! How much of my life with him is dictated by a person who’s already been through it!”

A larger hand rested upon Jonathan’s, stopping himself from hurting himself further. “Chickadee-... Jonathan, those feelings you’re feeling are valid. You’ve been with Damian, stayed with him through thick and thin, and still choose to be his friend. If there weren’t part of you that, the you who you choose to be, that felt that way, then you wouldn’t. Would it be the same if none of this happened? Probably not. But you can’t keep thinking about what if. He’s here with you now and you can’t control how you feel about him. What you can do is control what you do about it.”

Jon stares at him before lifting his head up with his tiny hands. “Then the same goes for you too.”

“Huh?”

“You can’t give me advice you aren’t going to follow, Tim.” He repeats. “You can’t control how you feel. Who you are right now is not the Tim from another world, and you’re not the Tim from before all this happened. Right now you’re just you. You’re not what you feel or know, but who you choose to be because that’s the only thing we can choose anymore. If I let my emotions get the better of me all the time I would be a bad person. I at least know that I would have punched Colin.”

“What-”

“But that’s the thing. I didn’t punch him because even though I feel jealous I don’t want to BE a jealous person.”

“Okay, you lost me but I understand what you’re trying to say.” He nods albeit slightly confused.

“Good.” Jon nods and sets his hand back down on his lap. “So, how are you?”

Timothy takes in a deep breath, in disbelief he’s about to unload his emotional baggage on a second-grader. “Honestly, not good. I don’t think I ever worked out my parents were gone all the time. I kinda sit there waiting until everyone I love leaves me because that’s what I think is going to happen. If someone is going to leave me behind then I just want them to do it and stop stringing me along. I know that’s not what people are like, but it’s what I feel like is going to happen.”

“Emotions are dumb like that sometimes.” Jon nods and listens. He doesn’t know what he’s listening to but Mrs. Queen says that some people just need to talk.

“They really are.” He agrees. “The only person who ever made me feel like I wasn’t going to be left behind was Kon. I would start to feel that way and then he’d just come in and fix everything with that dumb smile of his. I think… I think I was trying to recreate Kon-El. I also involved you in that plan and I know I shouldn’t have. I’m sorry about that.”

Jon hums and gives Tim a warm smile. “I forgive you, but even if you did get Kon-El back you wouldn’t have felt any better. Conner isn’t him, and neither of them can help you. It sounds like…” The fair-skinned boy pouts and rocks his body back and forth while hugging his Damian plush. “It sounds like he was your distraction. Like when you eat ice cream after getting a bad grade. It makes me feel better but it doesn’t change that I failed that math test.”

“Why are you so bad at math?”

“I’m bad at a lot of stuff.” He says proudly although that isn’t something anyone should be prideful of. “Conner, Kon, or whoever else in the world you find isn’t going to solve your problems for you. I really like fairytales and love stories, but love can’t fix everything.”

“Then what are you doing with Damian?”

“I stay with Damian because I want to grow with him, I don’t want him to solve my problems. I can do that myself… kind of. I need help, but that doesn’t mean I’m going to make others do the work for me.”

Tim smiles and ruffles Jonathan’s hair. “You’re too young to be this smart.”

Jon beams back at him. “I’m not smart, I just listen.”

The teen stands up and moves into the darkness of the room before re-emerging into the light in front of the unchanged conspiracy board Jonathan remembers seeing when he first went into Robin’s room all those months ago with a camera and a metal briefcase. “I have so many unresolved issues to struggle with, and it isn’t your job to listen. You deserve better than a life of solving other people’s problems.”

“What are you doing with that stuff?” Jonathan asks as he stands up as well.

“I’m going home and talking to my family. Maybe a therapist… definitely a yes on the therapy.”

“You should talk to Mrs. Queen! She’s really nice!” Jonathan suggests jumping on his feet.

Timothy snorts at the hyper child and pats him on the shoulder. “I can’t talk to anyone else so I guess I will. She _is_ the only League endorsed therapist.”

“Oh… Oh, that makes so much sense.” Jon breaths and smacks his already injured forehead. “Owie.”

He hands Jonathan a polaroid camera and the boy confusingly stares at it before Tim takes the strap and sets it around the child’s neck. “It’s a little gift; the pictures come out right away! Merry early Christmas!”

“Wow… I have no idea how to use this thing! Thanks!” He lets it dangle off his person for a few moments before looking back up at the older boy. “Can… Can I still talk to you? Chris doesn’t like talking about his visions and it feels lonely talking about it to someone who doesn’t feel the same.”

“Of course you can.” He agrees and grabs the boy’s hand to lead him out of the room. “We’re in this together.”

Tim sobs into the black fabric of the mantle crumpled in his hands that weighs much more than it should. He wasn’t ready. Tim wasn’t ready to wear it! He’s just turned twenty and already his second decade of life is doing its best to break him further than he already was. Timothy Wayne hated crying, it was vulnerability, a show of weakness! He’s already lost so much that losing more shouldn’t have hurt more! It never gets easier and now he was officially the fourth Batman.

He didn’t have time for tears as the manor entrance to the Bat Cave opened and a set of booted feet descended the steps. Royal blue orbs widen as they bear witness to the thirteen-year-old with black hair and sky-blue eyes confidently step into the cavern with a determined expression adorned on him. In his hands is an old Robin uniform with a pine green domino mask laid atop it. 

The boy stops directly in front of the man in the chair in front of the Bat-computer as he drops the red and green uniform on his lap. Soft hands that were impervious to the roughness of a colossus cup his watery face and lift it up until their eyes meet. Even after all Tim has put the child through he still manages to somehow show compassion towards him. Why was he both cursed and blessed to still have those eyes, the same eyes Kon had, looking after him?

“Tim, it’s okay to cry,” Jon tells him tenderly and tucks the elbow-length hair behind Tim’s ears. The teen grabs a thin piece of elastic on the console and sloppily ties the silky strands into a bun. “It doesn’t mean you’re weak. It shows that even after all we’ve been through, after all the hurt we’ve experienced, we can still feel. You’re still capable of feeling emotions and are still human. You’re strong enough to feel.”

“I’m sorry… I’m so sorry…” He hiccups as the teardrops continue to flow from his face. “I’m supposed to be looking after you. I’m supposed to wipe your tears away and reassure you of that instead of the other way around! You’re growing up too fast and it’s all my fault…”

Jonathan doesn’t say anything for a long time as he listens to his mentor grovel before him. The fair-skinned boy still smiles at the other with a dim light in his eyes that the tragedy of their lives caused and wraps the man’s head in his arms and hugs it to his heart. “Everyone in my life has hurt me. Even when they were trying to protect me they hurt me. My parents, Damian, and even you all wanted me to be something I didn’t know I wanted to be or was. Mom and Dad wanted me to be human, Damian wanted me to be safe, and you wanted me to be a hero. Even now I don’t know what I want.

“I couldn’t be a normal human because that would’ve meant ignoring the other half of my heritage. I couldn’t be safe because these powers give me a responsibility to help others in a way only I can. And you’ve already seen me, Tim; more people have died because of me than have been saved.”

“Jon-” Tim chokes but can’t get the words out of his constricted throat. He mourns what his child has become because of him, he grew up too fast even though he’s still very much a child.

“Tim,” The boy tells him wistfully as he runs his fingers through the long hairs. “I know. We both did terrible things. We were also both kids, we still are, but that doesn’t change anything. All we can do now is move on with our mistakes and choices; make the best of what little we have left.”

The man shakes his head and clutches the front of his ward’s shirt with his boney hand. “We could stop here. We could end the cycle now and let them be the last Batman and Robin to perish.”

Jon simply shakes his head with a melancholy sigh. “Maybe in a different world, that could be us. A world with enough heroes or fewer villains fighting each other might exist; the world we’re fighting to bring can come true. Unfortunately, it’s not this world and we have to pick up where they left off, or else your family’s sacrifice will be for nothing.”

They stay in the embrace for a minute longer until the younger boy lets go first and takes the modified uniform back. He stares at the green mask whose edges were too sharp for his personality and puts it on. “Three years… He died protecting me, yet here I am donning his mask. I can’t tell if I’m honoring him or disappointing him anymore.”

“We’ll never really know.” Timothy laments as he holds up the cowl in front of him.

Jonathan nods, tracing the outline of the mask that used to belong to Damian with the tips of his fingers, occasionally stopping near his eyes. Damian did always look pretty with green around his eyes. “He’d be what, sixteen this year?” He laughed to himself yet the sound carried no humor. “When all the adults in my life died I grieved, but when Damian died I mourned. The thing about kids that die is that I can’t imagine what they’d be like when they become older. I can try, but they would have missed out on so much it wouldn’t even be them I’d imagine. I can try to think about growing up with Damian but all I imagine is how he looked when he died: a kid. At least with Kon-El, you didn’t have to think about what he’d look like because he didn’t change; he couldn’t change.”

“I don’t know if I should take offense to that or not.” The man smiles softly at the boy who was coming into his own yet still resembles the person he loved. Tim stands up and grabs a shortened well used red candle from the arm of his chair that he took out of the vault not too long ago. “Before we go out, we’ll have to do something all Robins must do before their first patrol.”

Jon snorts and takes off his mask as he looks at the wax in his mentor’s hand. “Will that thing even light anymore? It went through like- six Robins now?”

“I think it has room for one more.” He says as he walks down a set of stone stairs into the unmodified parts of the Bat Cave. “Although, Jason threw the law book Bruce used for this tradition into a pit when he gave it to Sasha.”

“What kind of oath did he make her take?” Jon questions as he couldn’t comprehend the need to destroy such an important part of the Robin tradition.

Tim shrugs with a nostalgic smile. “Jason has never been one for following the rules. I don’t even think he made her take the same oath. If I remember correctly his oath was, ‘Bitches get stitches, now let’s fucking go.”

“Language.”

“Hey, I’m just quoting him.” He defends weakly. “Besides, each Batman has given their respective Robins different oaths to follow. If you’re going to be my Robin-”

“Pffft, as if it could ever be anyone else.”

“Then you have to follow my oath.”

As Tim prepares the ceremony Jon leans against the wall in a way only teenagers can and mocking asks, “How is being your Robin any different than being Chickadee?”

“Well,” He says as he pulls the Batman cowl over his head. It felt wrong on him but he couldn’t let his discomfort show especially in his moment. “You’re the first Robin with powers and the mantle of Robin has a reputation to uphold. Now then…” 

Tim lights the almost dead candle that barely had enough fuel to illuminate the duo. He didn’t have the law book but he did have something that would mean more to the both of them. Tim pulls out the photo album Alfred put together before he died and holds it out to Jon as he looks at the cover; a happy image of everyone when they were alive at the family picnic, his own family included. Solemnly Jonathan puts his right hand atop the book and into the eyes of the mask. The two of them put up their other hands and proceed with the life long tradition of the undying oath.

“Jonathan Samuel Kent, will you promise that by putting on this mask and taking the Robin identity you will do everything in your power to save the innocent; and that we two will fight together against crime corruption and never swerve from the path of righteousness?”

“I-” Jon begins to softly agree but Tim is not finished.

“And that by swearing this oath to me, right here and now, that no matter what may come our way or who will stand against our path you will not hesitate to do what needs to be done. That you and I will not only stand together as partners in this battle against crime but against any who dare threaten the peace of our universe. Do you swear to me with the death of this candle that together we will create a world where we will be the _last_ Batman and Robin?”

With newfound determination, the young Kent glares at his mentor with absolute certainty as the last remaining flickers of candlelight burn a scarlet fire around the rim of his sky blue eyes. “I swear it.”

And then there was darkness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I mentioned this before but I planned a lot of this fic long before I even typed the first chapter. It makes that unsubtle foreshadowing and build-up I do a heck of a lot easier. This fic is an outlet for me in a lot of ways. It's not only a creative outlet but an emotional one. I'm not saying that everyone has to share my views or that my story is perfect. Quite honestly if I were to re-write this fic (And I won't because holy crap I can't go through that! TOO MANY WORDS) then I would change so many things but my feeling on the topics won't change (At least for now). I kind of use this fic as projection and an outlet to work through some stuff and stuff I already worked through. 
> 
> I really love fanfiction because the characters people create hit a cord and make us think about the stuff we see enough to want to add to it ourselves. I know my story is long, drags in places, and can be kinda preachy but no matter what you take from it I'm glad that the people who read this feel something from it no matter what it is. (At least if the comments are anything to go by.) I'm glad I got to write this mini-arc about Tim. In this fic, I used him as a mirror to Jonathan in several ways that I'm not going to state because I care about word count in these endnotes. Sorry for those who don't like the alternate reality/visions/Tim subplot having to go through three chapters purely focusing on the stuff when that's not what you're here for. Also I put Kon in a bad light here but I do like him; he's just a teenager. 
> 
> I just realized that I never explained why the title of this fic is Here We Go! It does appear to be very random when looking at the story from the outside. That's because the title has NOTHING to do with the story. Because this fic was something I wanted to write to help me de-stress I made a title a mantra to help me build up the courage to keep posting. Every time I go to post a chapter I think, "Here we go!" and click post. I'm not going to change the title because I still feed that courage. When I post I worry about how people will react to it if anyone will care enough to react at all. The title helped me keep posting especially during those early chapters when I wasn't getting a lot of feedback.
> 
> WOoooo, that was a lot. Thanks/sorry if you read all that. Also, at the beginning of this new arc (The Lena chapter), I posted a pic of all the kid characters. I don't think I mentioned this but it's also the order of how the stories of this arc were supposed to be planned. I say "supposed" because I am not that great at planning. Thank you for reading, kudo-ing, commenting, or whatever you do and I'll see ya next chapter.
> 
> Next Chapter: Jon is getting suspicious of his boyfriend spending an unusual amount of time with Colin. What are they doing?


	42. Achievement Unlocked: Insecurity!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jonathan learns that his worst enemy is himself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That chapter title is the manifesto of my life. Thank y'all for reading and I'm sorry that this update is so short. I wanted to get something out this week cause the next two weeks are going to be filled with projects. I'm sorry for any grammar errors and I hope you enjoy it. Thank you and we are officially past the 400k work mark! Yay! Someone, please put me out of my suffering, I don't know how this happened!
> 
> Also, before we continue... Y'ALL THE SUPER SONS COMIC IS COMING BACK AROUND MY BIRTHDAY AND I AM LIVING FOR IT!

Jonathan Samuel Kent knows that he is not the brightest bulb in the box. If anything, he’s probably in the lower percentile of his class when it comes to grades, and that was before he was enrolled in one of the most elite private schools in the United States. Some of his classmates have private tutors helping them while Jon has his family. Jon loves his family but even they have their limits.

“Smallville, did you find the date in the textbook yet?” Lois asks her husband as she holds the printed version of her son’s homework to her face.

Clark shakes his head dejectedly as he flips through the pages of the thin children’s textbook before slapping it lightly with the back of his right hand. “I scanned the entire thing and I don’t see the dates for Gettysburg in here.”

“I googled it on my phone; it’s July 1st through 3rd 1863.” Chris pipes up from atop Conner’s loft bed. Jonathan rarely sees the man in his own room and thinks the two of them should share the room instead.

His mom throws her hands up in frustration and rolls back in Jon’s comparatively tiny desk chair. “Why don’t they have that in the book but ask it in the homework?”

“It’s the digital age, Mom.”

“Then why even have the book!”

Jonathan, who was sitting on his bed with his math homework, decides now would be the best time to ask the question that’s been on his mind. “Am I doing multiplication right?”

The brunette woman cranes her neck up at her son and extends a hand up to motion for him to give her the paper. Jonathan crawls to the edge of his bed and leas over the railing to hand his mom the homework. She looks at it for a moment, expecting it to be easier than the history homework before scowling at the offending sheet. “What… Jon, this is supposed to be simple multiplication, right?”

“It should be bu’ I dun’ really get it so I dunno.” The seven-year-old shrugs as he sits back down with his legs crossed.

“Then why are you drawing boxes?” She emphasizes the perceived oddity by pointing at the squares with garbled numbers on it.

“Cause that’s what the book told me to do!” Jon whines and holds out the offending pages in his workbook. “I put the number on the side and do this weird thing to get the answer!”

“That… that’s new,” Clark states a bit dumbfounded by what he’s seeing then adjusts his fake glasses. He rolls up next to his wife on Conner’s desk chair as they both examine the new method of math. He takes the book out of the boy’s tiny fingers with no objection. “Okay Jon, we’ll read over this first then we’ll explain it to you.”

“Alright, but what do I do?” Jon questions seeing as his parents took his math and history homework while Chris is looking for a novel for his book report. He doesn’t like doing homework but Jon feels like it should be _him_ doing it. He’s never going to learn anything if his family does the work for him.

“Why don’t you get started on your project?” His older brother suggests with a kind smile as he holds up Jonathan’s Superman school folder. “You have until January to finish it so why not start now?”

“I guess,” Jonathan mumbles as he reaches for the Damian plush next to his pillow. “I don’t even know what I want to do.”

The lightly tanned man opens the folder and skims through the pages for a few seconds then shuts it. “It just says you have to investigate something you’re curious about. You can do it on anything you want, so why not just go for it? Tim gave you that polaroid camera, right? You can take pictures of stuff you like around the house and see if anything piques your interest.”

The young boy pouts at that answer because he doesn’t want to waste film on stuff in his house. “I dun’ wanna.”

“It’s just a suggestion, no big deal if you want to do something else.” Christopher shrugs and goes back to looking up stuff on his laptop.

Jonathan flops down on his sheets as his parents begin to argue about the strategies in his workbook. They weren’t fighting each other and for some reason attempting to verbally argue with the book itself. It was weird. The second-grader knows that adults are weird, but some of the stuff they do still surprise Jon.

The child desperately wants to go outside and play, however, his parents wouldn’t let him until he finished his homework which leads to the situation he’s currently experiencing. Jon wishes he was smart like Dami, who somehow finished all of his homework for the year during the first week of school. He misses Dami and wants to see him because they haven’t played together in so long. Sure, Jonathan was to blame for some of that, but Damian hasn’t reached out to him either!

Aren’t they supposed to get married one day? Jonathan’s romantic knowledge only extends to stuff he’s seen on television and his parents. He’s pretty sure that people who are in a relationship, an assumed romantic one, should see each other more. Ever since normal schooling was… postponed? Changed? Temporarily put online due to makeshift Luthor-funded explosives. Ever since the school was temporarily put online due to makeshift Luthor-funded explosives Jonathan hasn’t seen his boyfriend/fiance/whatever Damian is to him now.

Damian is probably having fun with Colin right now. Jonathan is glad that Damian is making friends, but come on! It wasn’t fair! How come Colin gets to see Jon’s boyfriend more than him! At this rate, Colin would have spent more time with Damian than he did with Jon… Oh no.

The child quickly sits up wide-eyed, not looking at anything in particular but is definitely giving his older brother the creeps, as the realization dawns on him. Even though Jonathan has known Damian longer Colin has the ability to see him more. That wouldn’t be a bad thing if it wasn’t for the fact that Colin was great! Colin is one of the nicest people Jon knows! Who wouldn’t want to marry Colin over Jon!?

Sure, his red-headed friend wasn’t the son of a powerful superhero or rich but he had a lot more going for himself than Jonathan does. He’s kind, he can read more than Jon, he cares a lot about other people, and he still has his superpowers! The only reason Damian even wanted to be Jonathan’s friend in the first place was that Jon had powers! Things might be different now, yet the more Jon thinks about it the less of a reason he sees to marry him. Jon sure as heck wouldn’t want to marry himself if he were Damian. 

Jonathan, compared to Colin, is an immature kid with nothing to give. He’s going to lose his boyfriend and Jon has been unintentionally letting it happen because of his jealousy! Jonathan Samuel Kent is going to lose his boyfriend before he even got a date let alone a kiss! He needs to fix this.

“Get away from my man Colin!” Jon shouts as he hops off his bed, plushie in hand, and makes a b-line for the teleporter upstairs.

“Jonathan, no!” Chris shouts as he chases after his little brother to the bewilderment of their parents.

So the second-grader learned that he is not allowed to refer to Damian as, “my man” nor is he allowed to use the teleporters without permission. Also, his family would very much like him to explain his thought processes for things because they perceive him to randomly jump from subject to subject without rhyme or reason. Jon doesn’t get it because his thoughts make perfect sense to him and he’s never had to explain himself before. Then again he does vaguely remember Felicity telling him the same thing.

Two days later, after Jonathan finished his homework, he was allowed to go play at his treehouse. He’s not allowed to be at the Wayne Manor anymore for some reason, but it’s only Chris telling him that. He misses his treehouse! He hasn’t seen it in over two months due to him being grounded after the whole Roulette fiasco! It’ll be like old times, but better because he and Damian have improved their friendship.

The second Jonathan laid his optimistic bright blue eyes upon the room of his treehouse; another pair of blue orbs immediately accost him. Richard Grayson turned towards Jon and his brother as the light of the teleporter faded around them. The older man gives the pair a light-hearted smile and a casual wave of the hand.

“Hey Jon,” The eldest Wayne sibling turns to the brunet curiously and stands to meet him halfway. “And you must be Chris! It’s great to finally meet you in a non-life-threatening situation.”

Christopher shakes his hand once within reach with a polite grin. “And you’re Richard-”

“Please just call me Dick.” He interrupts with a small laugh. “I know, I know, but it’s what I’m more comfortable with.”

“Alrighty then, Dick it is!” The older Kent nods. “It’s great to meet you too!”

During this exchange, Jonathan desperately tries to run out of the treehouse to find Damian, who didn’t bother to greet him. Unfortunately, he’s being held back by Christoper’s iron grip on the end of Jonathan’s child leash. Dick chuckles at the sight and pats the younger child on the head.

“Wow, I think that’s the first time I’ve seen that thing work on stopping him.”

Chris sheepishly scratches the side of his face and looks down at the impatient Jonathan. “Yeah, Mom and Dad trust me to watch him more than Kara these days. Apparently, I have the best track record of not losing him.” He kneels to the seven-year-old before holding him still. “Jonathan, stop.” He commands and the child begrudgingly obeys. “Before I let you go, we need to go over the rules again.”

Jonathan sighs but doesn’t argue. “Okay.”

“What do you do if someone leads you somewhere without my permission?”

“I don’t go with them,” Jonathan mutters, not looking at the man in his brown eyes.

“Even if it’s Damian.”

Jon sighs again. “Even if it’s Damian.”

Chris nods and Dick uncomfortably fidgets in his spot. “Good. How about when you’re in danger?”

“I run away and I call for you or Dad with my button.” Unless that doesn’t work. Jon doesn’t say that part aloud.

“Good. Now don’t leave my line of sight and play nice.” He tells him and unbuckles the leash from his bag. Huh… Jonathan didn’t even know the leash could be removed without the backpack. It doesn’t matter for now because he immediately runs out the door!

He forgot that treehouses don’t have stairs.

The small half-Kryptonian drops from the ledge unceremoniously and is narrowly saved from plummeting to his doom by Chris who rushes in to save him. “Jon-!”

“Oops.” He blurts out with a flushed face. “I forgot.”

“It’s okay, just watch where you’re going from now on.” He pants due to the small amount of adrenaline that shot through him. The man floats down from the top of the fortress in front of an extremely distressed Damian looking up at them.

Once his booted feet touch the ground Jonathan speeds forward and engulfs his companion in a tight hug to make up for all of the hugs he didn’t give him within the three weeks they were apart. “HI DAMI!” He screams in pure delight at seeing his friend.

The older boy, wearing a simple black winter jacket with leather gloves, simply stands there with his arms to his side and an unreadable expression on his face. That’s fine with Jon because he knows that his fiance isn’t a hugger. Damian sighs and slowly pries the other boy off of his front and examines the younger.

“Jonathan.” Uh oh, he did not like the tone the Wayne was using on him.

“Yes?”

“I’m going to forget that awful offense you committed before my eyes in which you displayed your lack of self-preservation. Instead, I’ll inquire about the egregious scar on your forehead.” Damian presses his pointer finger to the prominent jagged blemish on Jonathan’s forehead. “What the fuck is that?”

“DAMIAN, LANGUAGE!” Dick shouts from the treehouse.

Jonathan lifts his hands to his head and begins to turn red from embarrassment. He didn’t even think about how he looked; he didn’t think it’d matter. Colin has a bunch of scars and Damian used to have scars on his face. No one judged them about how they looked, but maybe it was different for Jon. His scar must be really ugly.

“I-it’s a scar...” He replies, averting his eyes away from the scrutinizing emeralds. “You think it looks bad.”

Damian tiredly drags his free hand down his face with a long exhale. “I know it’s a scar Jonathan, what I want to know is the origins of the scar. I’m not interested in its aesthetics.”

Oh, that makes more sense! Jonathan should have known better than assume Damian cared about the appearance of the scar. “I bashed my head on the side of a mountain so I could talk to Tim. There was a lot of blood.” He simply details to the other causing his brother to groan.

“Jon, maybe you shouldn’t openly tell people that.”

“But it’s what I did.”

Damian stares down at his betrothed calculatingly as he contemplates the next series of actions to take. Meanwhile, Jonathan looks past him to the odd structure behind the boy to find… a small barn. If Jonathan recalls correctly Damian and Colin made it to house Jerry although it was much bigger than it needed to be for one large bird. Having a barn next to the treehouse was a bit weird yet Jon likes it well enough. It felt more like home than his current home does. That reminds him!

“Hey Dami, I have so much to tell you! Kathy and I made up and apparently, she’s an alien from another world and she’s green and can read minds and we talked for hours and hours and hours and we both somehow have even more in common now cause there’s a bunch of weird stuff we've been through! You already kinda met her but now that we’re friends again you two should meet! Also, I finally finished my room but it’s not very clean right now cause I don’t really clean it but it's not a mess anymore so that’s good! Oh, Oh, and when I visited the Young Justice Mountain or base or fortress I discovered they were next to a beach! Did you know beaches could get cold? I didn’t know beaches could get cold. I always thought beaches were hot no matter the season, but now that I’m saying that out loud it doesn't really make any sense. I’m not making too much sense right now, but we haven’t seen each other and I am not good at calling you but at least I tried calling you. How come you didn’t call me? You need to call me more, but you’ve apparently been spending a lot of time with Colin which is fine, I’m fine, I’m totally fine with that cause you need more friends. Not that you have to make more friends because I’m the one always telling you to make friends. It would be weird for me to suddenly not want to talk to other kids when I was the one pushing you to. Is that weird? Not that I actually feel that way. Cause I don’t. I’m fine. Anyways, what have you been doing? Where’s Jerry?”

“Jonathan,” Damian says calmly. “I have no idea what you said. I don’t believe you took a single breath during that entire tirade.”

“Oh.” Jonathan blinks and looks down at his light-up boots. “I- It doesn’t matter. I was just talking a lot of jumbled mess. Um… What… We haven’t hung out like this in a long time. Even before you left we didn’t have too many play dates-”

“Please don’t call it that, it’s childish.”

“But now we can have as many as we want together! Just the two of us-”

“Hey Damian, where should I put the dog food?” A new voice asks and the blood in Jonathan’s veins freezes from something other than the frigid temperatures.

From the large double doors of the barn, Colin emerges dragging a large plastic bag behind him with both hands. Once he was out in the open the fifth-grader unceremoniously drops the heavy sack on the patch of dirt next to him and brightens up at Jonathan’s presence. He was definitely more glad to see Jonathan than Jonathan was to see him which makes the younger child feel terrible about himself. The red-head adjusts his red beanie with a white puffball on top and jogs up to the half-Kryptonian with a bright smile.

“Hey, Jon! Hey, Jon’s brother!” He cheerfully waves and stops next to his classmate. “Dude, why didn’t you tell me Jonathan was already here? I would have stopped working if I knew!”

Damian rolls his eyes in that condescending way only Damian can with an added hint of fondness that reheats Jonathna’s frozen blood to the boiling point. “That’s why I didn’t tell you, Colin.”

Colin.

COLIN.

WHEN THE FRICK DID THEY GET ON A FIRST NAME BASIS!?!

“Hi, Colin!” Jon greets happily and gives the taller boy a tight hug, maybe a bit too tight. “I didn’t know you were going to be here too!”

“Really? I’ve been going here several times a week.” He squeezes out of his throat as the air in his lungs is forcefully expelled from him. “I don’t remember these hugs being _this_ snug.”

“Don’t worry about it, Jonathan is simply compensating,” Damian tells him and turns around to where Colin left the bag of dog food. “And this obviously goes with all the other food for the animals.”

“But Goliath ate it all last time!” Colin argues and pushes himself out of Jon’s hug.

“Goliath will learn restraint.”

“Not if you keep spoiling him!” The pail child runs in after Damian leaving Jonathan outside alone with his brother.

Christopher watches Jonathan stand in place for a few seconds before wobbling his head with his hand. “You okay there, Jonno?”

“Huh?” Jonathan shakes himself out of his stupor and looks back at his brother, completely normal. “I’m fine!”

“Aren’t you going to follow them?” Jon’s brother asks looking at the barn. “I know things are different than you remember, but it could be fun. Just like back on the farm, you know? I bet you could give these city boys a lesson or two about farming.”

“You’re right, Chris! This will be fun!” The child jumps and runs into the barn to be with his friends.

Jonathan enters the wooden structure excitingly as he doesn’t know what to expect. The inside was rather typical for a barn as the ground was flattened dirt with hay scattered throughout. There's a row of stables and rooms along the left wall without doors except for the ones with the cow and horse. It clearly wasn’t a typical barn but Jonathan didn’t mind. It was interesting! Jon goes to close the door behind him only to be stopped by Chris who followed him inside.

“Sorry ‘bout that Jon, but I have to keep an eye on you at all times.”

“Don’t you have x-ray vision?”

“Jon, buddy, I’m not using my powers around you unless you’re in danger.” He sternly says as he closes the door behind him.

That was kind of a bummer, but the man didn’t bother him in any way so Jon guesses it was fine. Jon has sadly gotten used to Christopher’s constant presence. He just wishes he was allowed more space, but he understands why his family doesn’t trust him by himself. Jon has been a very bad boy. He is the baddest of boys.

While Jonathan was considering his newly identified bad boy status, Jerry the turkey waddles past him, pecking at the ground in front of the two siblings. The seven-year-old pets Jerry on the head to which the bird doesn’t react at all. At least he didn’t hate pets because Jon doesn’t know how to handle turkeys.

Jonathan picks up Jerry and holds him as he walks around the barn. He can’t help but notice that Damian sure has picked up a lot more pets than the last time he saw him. There was Jerry the turkey, a cow, a horse, a monkey, a big doggy, a black cat with white paws, another black cat- wait a second! Jon knows that cat! On the top platform of one of many cat-towers sat a familiar black Persian cat bore its unrelenting yellow eyes down at Jonathan. That monster was bloodthirsty.

The boy readjusts the large bird in one arm while tugging the end of his brother’s bright blue jacket. “Chris, I need you to get me out of here.”

“Huh-”

“You see that cat, the fluffy one?” Jon questions pointing at it causing the feline in question to glare at the child harder. “She wants to kill me.”

Brown eyes glance at the mean cat. “I don’t think the cat wants to kill you.”

“You don’t get it,” He chastises as he begins slowly dragging himself towards the other set of doors that most likely have Damian and Colin on the other side. “Cathrine already tasted my blood and she’s hungry for more.”

“I don’t know where you’re getting this idea from, but you’re being oddly dramatic.”

“You said I should tell you when I’m in danger and you’re not taking me seriously.” Jon huffs indignantly. “Fine, but when I get killed it’s your fault!”

He sighs as Jon storms off with Jerry. “Jon, you’re not going to get killed-” Catherine chose that time to launch herself off from her perch and swiftly digs her claws into the fair rosy skin of Jonathan’s face. Christopher instantly rushes in an attempt to pry the she-devil off his precious little brother, but her sharp claws were embedded into his skin, causing the second-grader’s face to be pulled along with her. “Okay, this is happening! I’m sorry I doubted you!”

“I told you so!” Jon cries as he tries to shake Cathrine off. “Get it off! Get it off!”

“Jon, stop moving! You’re making it worse!”

“I can’t! You try standing still with a demon cat on your face!”

“Get off my brother!” Chris commands the cat as he tries to remove the claws to no avail.

“DAAAAAAMMIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIAAAAAAAAAANNN!” Jonathan screams at the top of his lungs.

In a heartbeat, the set of double doors slam open as Damian runs forward and easily plucks the evil ball of fur off of his fiance’s face. “Jonathan, what in the world did you do!?” He accuses and Jon’s already red face goes scarlet with rage.

“What di- WHAT?!”

“Damian, your demon cat just tried to kill my brother for no reason!” Chris loudly scolds the child. “Don’t blame him!”

Catherine jumps down from her owner’s arms and slinks to Colin, who was uncomfortably watching events unfold before him, rubbing the sides of her face on his leg. This causes Jonathan to grow more enraged because she was fine with Colin, but not Jon! Jonathan hasn’t been with Damian for fifteen whole minutes and he’s already been ignored and forgotten! Now Damian’s pets like him more than Jon! That means Damian likes him more than Jon! Shouldn’t his boyfriend be on his side and not accusing him of something he didn’t do?

Why does Jon love him again?

“Cats are innocent creatures! Look at her adorable face, she can do no wrong.” Damian points out as he gestures to Cathrine as she glares at Jon. “And Goliath has refused to come out of his room the second he heard Jonathan’s voice! Care to explain what you did to him, Jonathan?!”

Silence emanates around the group as they look at the youngest member. With an eerily calm demeanor, Jonathan places Jerry the turkey down on the ground and walks to where the two came from. He ignores the questions being called out at him and heads straight for the spacious half of the barn Goliath laid. 

The beast, upon seeing the comparatively tiny child, backs up against the wall with wide petrified eyes. Goliath was exactly how Jonathan remembered him being: Big, red, and fluffy. His teeth were still as vicious as he recalled when they clamped down on his neck last month and the wings were folded up behind his back stiffly.

“Kitty,” Jonathan says with an innocent grin. “Come here.”

Goliath doesn’t move from his spot against the corner of the room.

“ **KITTY**.” He tries again with a bit more authority in his voice. “I said COME. HERE.” Hesitantly, Goliath bows his head at Jonathan’s feet and crawls towards him. Jonathan raises a hand to the dragon-bat’s forehead and gently rubs it with a smile. Jon looks back to the group, now including Dick who just arrived and is confused by the happenings around him. “I don’t see the problem here, Dami. Goliath likes me just fine and it’s not nice for you to take Cathrine’s side over mine.”

“Jesus Christ Jon, what did you do to the poor thing?” Colin gasps at the sight of the terrifying beast.

“I didn’t do anything to him!” Jonathan snaps back spitefully. “I didn’t hurt him if that’s what you’re asking. I only booped him on the nose when he didn’t listen to me. Other than that I gave him lots of hugs and love!”

“And what did you order him to do?” Dick questions hesitantly.

“To find Damian of course!” Jon answers readily. “He didn’t get it right the first few times but he got me there eventually! Although I had to drag him into the mountain with me because he didn’t like the path I made, but Goliath got with the program quickly. It didn’t matter that he was scarred because Damian was in danger. Now me and Goliath are friends! Right, Goliath?” Goliath makes a pitiful noise which Jonathan deems as an affirmative. “See!”

“Jonathan, you’ve terrorized my beautiful Goliath!” Damian screeches as he rushes up to the beast and hugs it’s head comfortingly. “My wonderful Goliath is in such a pitiful state because you browbeat him! No wonder felines hate you!”

Okay, ow. That hurt in ways Jonathan couldn’t comprehend mentally but he’s feeling it physically and emotionally. “I didn’t do anything wrong! I don’t get why you’re treating me like I did!”

“Jon,” Colin coolly states. “When you had Goliath, you had super strength, right?”

“Yeah. How else would I have smashed my way into the mountain?”

Pale blue eyes stare at him blankly, yet not in an accusatory manner. “Okay,” He says as he walks up to Jon and lightly smacks him on the nose with a flat palm causing him to flinch. “Did that hurt?”

Jonathan scrunches his face and rubs his nose. “Not really.”

“That’s what you did to Goliath, right? The same amount of force and everything?”

“Right.” Where is Colin going with this?

“Now, I want you to think about this for a moment. What I just did to you was with normal human force. Imagine how it would feel if I used my powers on you. It would hurt a lot more, right?”

“Right, but I didn’t use my powers on Goliath,” Jonathan explains.

“And how did you use your powers on the mountain?”

“I just used one hand to dig into the rock; It was like sand.”

“So you didn’t feel like you used more strength than you usually would have, right?”

“Riiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii… Oh. Oh no.” The small child drones as the horrible realization dawns on him. Oh crap, Jonathan is feeling super bad about himself right now. “Oh no, I hurt Goliath!”

“There we go.” Colin nods and looks to Damian who is comforting Goliath. “I’m not saying you shouldn’t be mad at Jon for hurting your giant cat-”

“Dragon Bat.”

“But Jon didn’t know. There was no way for Jonathan to have known he was hurting Goliath because he doesn’t understand his own strength.”

Damian was still visibly displeased by the information and Jon drops to his knees with his hands clasped together. “I’m sorry Goliath, I didn’t mean to hurt you! I didn’t know!”

“Jonathan, please get off the floor.” Damian sighs, covering his eyes. “You’re embarrassing yourself.”

“I didn’t mean to hurt Goliath Dami, I swear!” Jon sobs with tears pouring out of his eyes. Chris stepped in and carried his brother in his arms. “I didn’t mean to! I didn’t want to hurt the kitty!”

“DRAGON BAT.”

“This is not a good start to the playdate, I am so sorry about this.” The brunet man apologies to Dick.

The other man scratches his black hair and exhales. “I… I gotta be honest, I don’t know what happened, but it’s fine. Do you want to go home or-”

“That won’t be necessary, at least not yet. Jon needs some time to cry it out, so we’ll be off getting it out of his system.” He turns back to Damian with a glare. “Your cat is still evil.”

The Kryptonian takes his brother away from the barn and the clearing to somewhere in the woods. Somewhere very far away where just the two of them can be alone together. Christopher doesn’t seem to use his powers to find a secluded location, but through teary eyes, Jonathan can’t help but notice that his walking speed is faster than most people’s running.

The moment the man deems an area worthy enough he presses the younger Kent’s head to his chest and uses his laser vision to burn all of the cameras in the vicinity. He hums in approval at his work then sits the boy down on a rock. “It’s gonna be okay Jon, you’re fine. You’re going to be fine.”

“I-I didn’t mean t-to-”

“I know you didn’t mean to buddy, and it’s not your fault.” Chris coos as he kneels to Jonathan’s level to comfort him. “These things… These things just happen when you’re trying to get used to your powers. That’s why we gave you your collar, to not only protect you but others. Remember?”

Jonathan feels large fingers wrap around his neck above his collar. He doesn’t know why but he tries to stop crying long enough to see what’s happening. He needs to focus. The boy hears a light beep emit from the metal device and weight is temporarily released from his person. The collar that’s plagued his person for so long is off and Jonathan doesn’t know how he did it. There was no key and he didn’t use his strength to pry it off, so how did he do it?

Rough tanned fingers massage the sore skin on Jonathan’s neck before the child can ask any questions he feels… lighter. The second-grader didn’t realize that his body felt so heavy before. When he first put on the collar he believed it made him feel normal, but that must have been because he was under that weird red lamp. Now that he doesn’t have the device on his neck anymore he feels great! Terrific even!

“This is just going to be for a few moments, then the inhibitor goes right back on,” Chris tells him softly as his thumbs brush over the vanishing scars over Jon’s face. “Come on, come on…” He mutters under his breath as he watches Jonathan’s wounds heal. “Almost there.”

“I don’t want to wear the collar again!” Jonathan screams and begins thrashing in place. The back of his heels hit the stone he was sitting on causing it to shatter. “I don’t want it! It makes me feel sick!”

“It’s not making you sick, it’ll be fine. You’ll be fine!” He argues as he holds his brother down. “I’m doing this for your own good!”

“No, you’re not! You’re not!” Jon cries and pushes the collar in Chris’s hands away from him, eyes red. “If you were then you’d teach me to control my powers! Not get rid of them like Dami said!”

“Jonathan Samuel Kent, we are not having this talk right now!” Christopher demands as he forcefully takes the child’s upper arm into one of his hands. “Young man, if you do not behave this instant we are going home. Do you understand me?”

“You’re not my dad!”

“No, I’m not but I’m your older brother! Dad left me in charge of you and if you don’t listen to me then we are leaving. We will leave and you won’t be allowed to see Damian for a long time.” He threatens Jon as he forces the boy to look him in the eye. “I don’t want to be the bad guy, but I will not tolerate this behavior from you any longer! I’m putting my foot down like I should have long before we even got to this point. You will let me put this collar on you, and then we are going to talk about what happened back at the treehouse. Okay?”

Jonathan rubs his stuffy nose with the back of his hand and dejectedly nods as Christopher brings the collar back around his throat. The metal clicks into place and the burst of the energy Jonathan had inside him dissipates. Chris wipes the sides of his thumbs over the corner of his brother’s teary eyes before bringing him in close for a tight hug.

“I’m sorry for raising my voice at you Jon.”

“I don’t like the collar!”

“I know you don’t, but you need it.” He points to the rubble on the grass underneath them. “This is why you need the collar. You’re not ready.”

Jonathan pouts and presses his wet face against his brother’s shoulder. “That’s cause none of you will let me be ready.”

He hears the older full-blooded Kryptonian sigh wistfully and holds him tighter. “You have a point, but I can’t- we can’t be sure when that is.” Chris pulls Jon away far enough to see his face. “Before we can even think about letting you train your powers we have to work on your emotions. So, do you mind telling me what happened back there?”

“I-I didn’t mean to hurt the kitty-” Jonathan begins to explain but is interrupted.

“I know you didn’t mean to hurt the… The- uh… kitty, but that’s not what I’m talking about.” He clears up. “Honestly there are a lot of things I want to talk about, but I’m asking about the weird way you’ve been behaving. I’ve noticed that you’ve been acting strained around your everyone. Do you not want to play with your friends?”

“I want to play, but I… They don’t want me.” Jon admits with tears flowing down his cheeks. “Damian didn’t miss me and he didn’t even try talking to me! He hasn’t called me either! Plus, after I got here he immediately ran off with Colin! I’m his boyfriend so shouldn’t I be more important to him?!”

“Woah, hey now. Chickadee, look at me.” Chris demands and lifts the other’s chin up to look at him. “Of course they want to play with you.”

“No, they don’t.” Jonathan retorts defiantly. “Dami is mad at me for hurting his cat and his other cat hates me, but likes Colin!”

The older sibling looks at the younger for a moment then asks, “Jonathan, are you jealous of Colin?”

“No… Yes?” He replies confused about his own answer. “Colin is nice and my friend. He’s smarter than me, he’s nicer, he’s older, and- and I bet Damian would rather be friends with him rather than me. I hurt his pet and I mess up all the time! I… We don’t have anything in common. I like being with him and I want to be with him, but I don’t… I… We don’t like any of the same things, we don’t see each other, and it’s clear he doesn’t like me as much as I like him! I’m just feeling stupid and it’s making me do more stupid things. I’m trying to act normal but every time I see him having fun without me I feel stupid because I know I shouldn’t.”

“Jonathan, you’re not ‘feeling stupid.’” Chris reassures him as he runs his fingers through Jonathan’s midnight black hair. “You’re feeling insecure and that’s not a stupid feeling. It’s completely natural. Did you tell Mrs. Queen about this?”

Jon shakes his head. “No, you’re the first person I told this to.”

He smiles warmly and pats Jonathan’s head. “Well then, thank you for telling me. Do you know what insecurity is?” Jon shakes his head again. “It’s when you don’t feel brave about something. It’s like being scared but not as… How should I put this in a way you can understand… It’s like being scared about something you think is happening when it’s not.” He taps on Jonathan’s barren forehead with his right pointer finger. “Remember earlier when you had that scar and you were worried that Damian would find it ugly?”

“Yeah.”

“But Damian didn’t care about that at all. That was something you came up with that made you feel bad. Just like how you think your friends don’t want to play with you, or how you believe that Damian is going to stop being your friend for someone else. It’s not true because it’s something you made up inside your head.”

Jonathan frowns and holds the sides of his head as he sits on the gavel he made. “Why is my head so mean to me?”

Christopher shrugs with a long sigh. “I don’t know why, but you’re not alone. Everybody has something they’re insecure about.”

“What are you insecure about?” The little boy asks as he wipes the fluids from his face. Chris stays silent for a long while and reaches into his pocket for a cloth to clean up the child’s face with. Once cleaned, he picks Jonathan back up in his arms and begins walking him back to the treehouse at a normal pace. “Chris?”

“It’s… maybe later.” He responds as he adjusts Jon’s position. “Are you feeling better?”

“Kinda, bu’ I’m sad my head is mean to me for no reason,” Jon says with a frown. “I don’t want to go back cause I’ll make everything awkward again. I think all animals except Krypto hate me.”

“Jon-”

“Cathrine hates me.”

“Okay, that’s true, but in your defense that cat is evil.” He states confidently before patting the side of Jon’s head. “You don’t have to go back right away; We can play by ourselves for a bit. It’s been a while since you got to play right?”

“I guess.” Jon shrugs unenthusiastically.

“What do you want to do?”

“... Can… I wanna play superheroes.” The half-Kryptonian declares, looking up at the older with innocent eyes. “I know I’m not allowed to use my powers in case I hurt anyone, but you’re not anyone.”

“Jon-”

“Pleeeeeeeeaaassssee!” He begs and tugs at his collar. “If something happens, you’ll protect me!”

Christopher sighs and puts Jonathan down as he hurriedly looks around at the trees. “Fine, but you can’t tell anyone. And I’m only going to allow this one time and one time only meaning when I tell you to put the collar back on I don’t want to hear any complaining.”

“Okay, I won’t!” Jon promises as he hops in place like an excitable bunny rabbit.

Meanwhile, Damian was petting Cathrine next to Goliath while Colin held Jerry away from Alfred the cat. Dick waited outside the barn and occasionally peaked inside to check on the two fifth-graders. Eventually, the red-head sighs and calls out to the eldest Wayne sibling. “I don’t think they’re coming back!”

“Shut up, Colin!” Damian groans and hits him on the shoulder only to be hit back.

“No, you shut up! This is your fault!” Colin yells angrily. “You wouldn’t shut up this entire time about how much better it would be if Jon were here, and then you had to make him cry! I didn’t even know that was possible cause he's so obsessed with you!”

“I hate you!”

“I hate you too!”

“Hey!” Dick shouts at the boys. “We do not use that kind of language here!”

“Since when!?” Damian yells, throwing his head back. “Colin started it by talking nonsense!”

“Bitch, I’m the only one that makes sense most of the time! You’re just pissy cause you don’t know how to be nice to people! Or use words! Or feel! Or not be an ass-”

“Colin, please stop swearing!” The man pleads, however, his words fall on deaf ears.

“Rub it in why don’t you!” The assassin goads, standing from his seat. “-Tt- This is ridiculous! I’m not going to keep standing here waiting for something to happen!”

“Pffft, That hasn’t stopped you before.” Colin scoffs, angering his peer. “First you try to distance yourself from him and now you act as if you want him around. Make up your mind, Damian; You can’t do both.”

“You can’t make up your mind either!” Damian accuses and rudely points at the other. “You talk down to the rest of us like your way of thinking is sensible, but you’re just as insane as the lot of us!”

Richard drags his hands down his face while looking up to the sky, praying for the children to stop fighting. It was at that moment he momentarily believes himself a priest as an insanely large ice structure the size of Superman’s Fortress of Solitude erupts out of nowhere. The monument crushed everything in its path and cast a dark shadow over the forest. Thank Batman that they put a cloaking device in the area else Dick would have a lot of explaining to do. Actually, he still has a lot of explaining to do cause what the fuck is he looking at?

The children rush outside alongside their babysitter and Colin points out, “Hey, wasn’t that the direction Jon went?”

The reaction was immediate.

“Habibi!” Damian shouts in hysteria and pulls out his katana as he rushes to the structure.

“Holy- wait, Damian no! Where did you get that!” Dick shouts, running after his brother leaving the other boy alone.

Colin sighs tiredly and sets Jerry inside his pen so that the cats couldn’t get to him before calmly adjusting his hat. He knows where the rest of his day is most likely headed and braces himself for what is about to happen. He’s either going to have a fun time or suffer, and right now he doesn’t care which.

He knows nothing will prepare him for whatever chaos Jonathan just rained down upon them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Unfortunately, the next chapter will be a while, although my timing is already shit. I ain't no oracle. This was supposed to be longer but I had to break it down into two chapters because I felt like I had to get something out. I hate keeping y'all waiting and the feedback and validation keep me going.
> 
> Jonathan is going through some stuff, cats are evil, and Chris continues to try. There's more than the barn that Damian and Colin were up to, but that will be revealed next chapter. 🤗
> 
> Next Chapter: The actual playdate.


	43. Icy Tomb

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jonathan keeps getting himself into weird situations. He's pretty used to it by now and it honestly doesn't phase him as much as it should, but other people aren't so casual about it. People like Damian.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Y'all I stopped caring about editing about halfway through this cause its finals week and I'm dead inside. I've been writing this in between papers because this is how I cope. God help me and you for the egregious amount of potential grammar errors you'll see in this chapter. Thank you for reading and please pray my procrastinating ass doesn't fail anything. Thank you and enjoy.

Jonathan Samuel Kent is very cold right now. He doesn’t know why he’s cold, but all he knows is that it’s the only thing he can feel. He can’t move any of his limbs nor can Jon open his eyes. The hybrid is in a unique frozen stasis that left him with only his thoughts to keep him company, and the child doesn’t want to be anywhere near his mind. Jon’s mind is mean to him and tells him that his friends don’t like him.

The seven-year-old doesn’t remember how he even got to this point. His memories are hazy and it feels as though he awoke from a long slumber. When did he fall asleep? Jonathan tries to take in a calming breath, however, his chest refuses to expand and he doesn’t feel the air around him. Odd. Normally Jonathan would need to breathe, right? He remembers Damian choking him when they first met; the lack of oxygen was agonizing.

Although, now that the cog of his brain begins to turn, he does recall a time where he didn’t need air to live for a brief moment. Before his body went supernova he was in the vast empty void of space without a particle of air to fill his lungs. Jonathan concludes that he has gained more inhuman traits than he last recalled. He doesn’t need to breathe as humans do. Jon wonders if that means he can go deep underwater without any trouble, but the thought gets lost on him. 

None of that matters now that Jon is stuck in a dark frozen prison. The child uses the little energy he does have to remember where he was and how he got here. In order of events that he is able to remember: Jon made the playdate awkward, he cried, Chris took off his collar, Chris put it back on, they talked, Jonathan found out his head was a mean place, and then he asked his brother to take off the collar again so he could play superhero for a bit.

There’s more to his story, but Jon feels tired. He should be panicking, but right now he can’t come up with any emotion other than mild curiosity. Everything was so peaceful in this cold that all Jonathan wants to do is relax and sleep for a bit. It wouldn’t be a bad thing, would it?

“Chris, remember when you made Conner and I that cool ice slide?”

“Yeah, what about it?”

“Can you do it again!?”

“Sure, I don’t see why not. Don’t go staring at it, we don’t want it to accidentally melt.”

Where are these voices coming from? Is that him? Is Jon remembering something?

“I don’t think my heat vision is that strong.” Yep, that’s him.

“We don’t know how your powers developed while you were wearing that collar. Just… Here!”

A blurry image of Jonathan’s eldest brother blowing into the boy’s cupped hands enters the theater of his mind. Once the brunet is done a lovely little heart of ice is in the boy’s red gloves. Jonathan holds it closer to his face to look through it like a spyglass. The hybrid hears his sibling laugh as he turns to the side near a patch of dirt.

“Play with that for a few seconds while I work on making a cool slide.”

Jonathan twirls the sculpture between his fingers before pressing the flat surface to his lips. The ice sticks to his skin momentarily, but Jon’s warm breath quickly releases him. Always one to be easily amused by the mundane, Jonathan repeats the process several times much to the amusement of his brother.

“Aw, you’re giving the heart little kisses.” He coos watching the boy do it again. “I assumed you might try testing your heat vision on it, but this is much more wholesome.”

The blue-eyed boy makes a face at his suggestion and spits his tongue out at the man. “Ew, I’m not kissing it! That’s gross Chris!” Jonathan stares thoughtfully at the little heart in his palms before placing it in his left hand and blowing in his right.

Chris tilts his head at the action for a second before he understands what Jon is trying to accomplish. “Are you trying to make another heart?”

Jonathan frowns and holds the ice towards him. “It looks so lonely, Chris! It needs a friend!”

The man’s soul melts at the sentiments, nevertheless, he tells his brother to stop. “That’s sweet Jon, but ease up. I don’t think you have ice powers, but just in case you shouldn’t risk using it on yourself.”

“But it’s so lonely and cold.” He repeats solemnly. “If it had another heart next to it then at least it wouldn’t be so bad.”

“You can hold it against your heart,” Chris recommends. “Then it could be warm and not lonely. If you really want another ice heart I can make one for you after I’m finished with this slide.”

“Won’t it melt?”

He shakes his head and turns back to the half-completed slide. “Ice made by a Kryptonian is a bit different than normal ice. It’ll take a tad more than a little heat to melt it.”

Jonathan presses the frozen heart against his jacket, right where he feels his heart beating in his chest. Even so, the boy still tries to make his own frozen heart for the trinket and continuously blows onto his outstretched palm. Chris sees this and sighs as he grabs the metal collar he locked around one of his belt loops. “Alright Jon, that’s enough of that. If you’re going to blow on something then come do it on the slide so you don’t accidentally freeze yourself.”

Jonathan doesn’t listen and wishes he could be left alone for a few seconds to do what he wanted. He wasn’t even doing anything bad, yet Christopher was acting like he was going to accidentally hurt himself. The Kent boy doesn’t want to give Chris a reason to collar him before Jon could even use his powers for something fun. The child resigns himself to ceasing his endeavors, but one last try wouldn’t hurt, right?

As he walks to his brother Jon closes his eyes and blows into his hand one last time. He feels a rush of cold leave his lips and when Jonathan opens his eyes a jagged sheet of ice lays flat on his fingers. It wasn’t what he was going for, but it was more that he expected. Gleefully, Jonathan runs up to his brother with his creation. “Chris, Chris! I did something!”

“Good job, Jon!” Chris praises albeit hesitantly and takes the sharp object out of his hands. “That was awesome, but next time when I tell you to stop, then you have to stop. Okay?”

“Okay.” Jon sighs as he stands next to the other.

“Don’t look so glum, Jonno.” Chris teases and ruffles his fingers through Jon’s hair. “Now that you have ice powers you can help finish the slide. Then you have to put the collar back on, okay?”

That sounds fun and fair. “I can do that!”

“Great!”

The eldest brother instructs Jonathan to use his powers on specific areas then when he’s done Chris goes in and smoothes out the edges while doing his best to keep Jonathan’s original work intact. The two of them can complete a simple slope with something akin to stairs after a short period of time. Jon tests it out by going down it once and gives their creation a thumbs up.

“It’s perfect!” He proclaims as he reaches the bottom of the slope. “It’s not as big as the one you made before but it’s still fun! I can’t wait to show Dami and Colin! Then we can play superheroes on the slide.”

“I see you’re ready to go back to your friends, but before we can do anything else I need you to put on the collar,” Christopher informs and holds out the device to his little brother. “We can’t have you without the collar near other people.”

“I know.” Jonathan laments as he looks at the jewelry. “I wish it wasn’t so uncomfortable.”

“Don’t worry Jon, I promise I’ll have something better soon.”

“You said that last time.” He retorts as he continues to stare at the collar. The child takes in an intense breath and puffs his cheeks as he sticks his neck out as though he was prepared to get a shot at the doctor’s office. Jonathan desperately doesn’t want to wear it again after feeling free for the first time in a while, but he gave Chris his word that he wouldn’t argue.

The cold metal clings to his throat with a brief click and a wave of lethargy washed over Jonathan. All of his senses feel muted and his body heavy. He wants it to go away! He wants to be free, but his family says it’s for his own good. He doesn’t agree, but he can’t do anything about it. Jon wishes he could understand the adults or at the very least not have these problems.

“There we go, Jon! You can stop holding your breath now.” Chris lightheartedly tells him. “We can go tell your friends to come over now.” Jonathan tilts his neck down towards his feet and releases the air in his body in one violent burst and he hears a strange crackling sound along with the terrified screams of his brother. “JONATHAN!”

That’s the last thing Jonathan remembers before coming back into consciousness. If the fair-skinned boy could move his arms he’d face-palm himself because he’s so dumb. How in the world could Jonathan freeze himself after Chris warned him so many times not to do that! Jon was wearing his collar too! He didn’t even think about the ramifications of holding in his breath before getting his powers taken away! Now Chris is never going to let Jon take the collar off ever again and he’ll be stuck like this forever!

This shouldn’t be the thought plaguing Jonathan’s mind as he should be more concerned by the face his entire being is encased in ice. He hopes that he didn’t accidentally hurt anyone, but Jonathan can’t move to make sure. If the half-Kryptonian didn’t have the collar on he would use his heat vision or super strength to break out of his self-inflicted prison.

Now that Jon thinks about it, shouldn’t he be dead? Sure he didn’t need to breathe as a Kryptonian, but doesn’t he have a machine that turns off his powers clinging to his neck? Jon is pretty sure he should be super dead right now. Maybe… maybe Jon is dead. Oh no, Jon is dead and he hasn’t told anyone goodbye!

There were so many things that Jon wanted to do! Jonathan never went to Disney World, he never got to kiss his fiance, he didn’t get to pet Krypto one more time, he never got to meet Santa, he couldn’t fix his family, he never solved the mystery of his visions, he never became a superhero, he didn’t get to eat ice cream again with Kathy to see if he was still allergic to it, and he never got to kiss his fiance! Yes, he listed that twice because he’s double sad about it!

The afterlife is a lot darker than Jon expected it to be. It’s so dark and empty unlike what Jonathan was told about it in the past. He thought life after death to be full of sunshine and made of cotton candy clouds. Unless… Unless Jon is in the bad place. Jonathan didn’t think he was bad and everyone told him he was always a good boy, but he’s learned that not all bad people are bad which would also mean not all good people are good. Jon has probably done a ton of terrible things that got him to the bad place.

Welp… Jon literally has eternity to reflect on why he’s in the place where bad little boys go. First off he didn’t listen to his family. Kids that don’t follow the rules are bad and Jonathan has broken a whole bunch of rules. Adults know what they’re doing and make rules to keep kids safe. Jonathan doesn’t understand or like those rules, but that just means that he’s extra terrible for not listening to them. But Jonathan also knows that adults are also people and Jon is people. Why do older people have more authority over Jon? Because they’re old? Rules might have a reason but the people who made those rules should explain why they’re there.

Jonathan’s parents are reporters and they always tell him to question what is being told to him. His teachers call it critical thinking although Jon doesn’t understand why it’s labeled as critical. He’s getting off track.

Jon has been doing an awful job at listening to people and it’s not just adults. Colin is always telling him not to do weird or dangerous stuff and he doesn’t listen to him. Colin once told Jon he does that because is his friend, and he doesn’t like seeing him get hurt; that he made mistakes he doesn’t want Jonathan to repeat. Jonathan understands that yet he admittedly brushes his advice aside which must be frustrating for the redhead.

Then there’s Damian. Jonathan doesn’t… He listens to him but even though the older boy promised to marry him Jon doesn’t think that they’re on the same page about it. Damian still doesn’t like hugs but he’s stopped fighting Jon about them. Although Jonathan hasn’t eased up on hugging him. If anything Jon’s been hugging him more when they see each other because that’s what couples are supposed to do. Mmmmmmmmm… That’s probably why Damian hasn’t called him to play. That and Goliath hates Jon.

Jonathan doesn’t know how he’s going to fix that, but talking things out usually works out for him. However, even though Jonathan knows that talking out his problems is the best way to handle things he’s becoming more reluctant to do it. It scares him because his mind makes up things that won’t happen and it’s all bad. 

Chris told him that’s because he’s insecure, but is that really the case? If everyone gets insecure when they grow up he wants to talk to whoever made people like that, and give them a piece of his mind! Maybe Jonathan can do that because he’s dead, right? At least Jonathan thinks he is. Even if Jon is where all the bad kids go it shouldn’t be too hard to find someone to talk to about it.

How does he do what he’s supposed to do? Does he… Is he just supposed to think hard or is he not allowed because he’s been a bad boy? Jonathan calms himself and concentrates on trying to find the person in charge of making people. This makes perfect sense because even dead people can talk and move around! Like ghosts!

“Bloody hell!” A gravelly voice yelps along with the sound of crashing followed by the scream of a female.

“Oh my gosh!” The woman’s voice shouts and Jonathan blinks to find himself at… a bar? Jon doesn’t think he’s old enough to be at a bar because his mom says those are adult restaurants. It reminds Jonathan of a hotel he saw on TV. Jonathan turns around to face Zatanna and an extremely scruffy blond man in a trenchcoat. He didn’t know Zatanna died; he saw her at the JLA family picnic a few months ago.

“Superboy?” The mage gasps and moves to touch his shoulder only for it to phase through him. “Superboy- wha- What happened to you? How did you get here?”

Superboy? Oh, right. He’s only met her when he was using that name. “Hi, Ms. Zatanna! Sorry to scare you, but I’m looking for the person that makes people. I need to ask them some questions about when older people’s minds are mean to them because that’s not fair.”

“I-you-” She stutters but Jonathan is already running off around the restaurant for a way out. “Wait!”

A monkey dressed as Sherlock Holmes is at the counter of the bar and now Jonathan is very confused. “Excuse me Mr. Monkey,” Jon asks politely and the primate turns in his seat to stare at the child inquisitively.

“Hello, Jonathan.” The monkey greets startling Jon by using his name before he could even introduce himself.

“Wow…” Jon exhales in amazement. “Are you God?”

The detective monkey smiles at the child and pats the seat next to him, ushering the boy to sit. Jonathan does so only to find he can’t see over the counter. “I am certainly not God nor am I the person in charge of making people as you announced you were looking for.”

“Oh,” Jonathan pouts. “Then who are you? Where are we?”

“I am Detective Chimp and we are in the Oblivion Bar.” He announces. “And you are Jonathan, son of Superman. You have somehow found a way to astral project yourself into this very private location.”

Instantly any color Jonathan might have had on his face drains and he gets off the chair, moving around to find an exit. “I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to break in! I’ll leave right now!”

“Superboy,” Zatanna calls out and kneels next to him. “You’re not in trouble, alright?” The boy stops panicking and nods his head. “Can you tell us how you got here?”

Sky blue eyes stare at the lady oddly. “The same way you got here; I died.”

The magician’s eyes widen and the man Jonathan heard earlier walks up to him. “Kid, you aren’t fuckin’ dead.”

“That’s a bad word,” Jonathan tells him while pointing a finger at the trenchcoat man. “And you talk funny. You sound like Mr, Pennyworth.”

“Please tell me this isn’t one of Batman’s?”

“No, he’s Superman’s.” Zatanna clarifies before returning her attention to Jon. “Superboy, you aren’t dead. You’re… Well I’m not entirely sure what you’re doing but dead people can’t do what you’re doing. I don’t sense any magic in you which makes this more confusing.”

Jon looks at nothing for a few moments, trying to wrap his head around the fact he’s not dead but has somehow found himself in a weird place. “Oh.” Well, he guesses he should go back if he wasn’t dead. He doesn’t want to make his family and friends sad if he can go back to them. “Okay, bye!” Jonathan smiles and waves as he thinks extremely hard about going back to the Fortress of Attitude.

“Wait, what-”

And then Jon was back where he used to be in frozen darkness. That was weird and Jonathan should be more confused by what happened to him, but at this point, so many things have happened to Jon that this is normal to him now. He’s not going to put too much thought into this. He has more pressing issues to deal with now that Jon’s not dead. It was probably a weird dream because Jon knows that talking detective monkeys don’t exist. The second-grader knows that he’s in the ice that he created himself and that he’s not dead because the dream people told him so. 

With this information in mind, Jonathan Samuel Kent can see the possibility of getting out of this ice. He struggles to move his arms, but before when he felt his limbs being held captive by their icy restraints now he felt no resistance. Confused, Jonathan opens his eyes to find emerald green orbs looking directly back at him, tears pricking the corners.

It was Damian!

“Hi, Dami!” Jon greets, utterly unperturbed by his surroundings and the fingers gripped violently around his neck. “Guess what, I’m not dead!”

His fiance didn’t appear delighted by that news as cold droplets poured down his face and his breathing became erratic. The young Wayne doesn’t say anything tangible, only managing to wheeze and whimper words as he continues crying which makes Jonathan feel awful. Now that the younger boy thinks about it, most of the time when Damian sobs it’s usually somehow Jonathan’s fault. Jon is a terrible friend and boyfriend.

“Y-you we- you- I- you weren’t-” The assassin rambles as he tries to complete a sentence and hugs Jon’s limp body to his chest. “You weren’t- Jonathan, I can’t- not again.”

Jon has no idea what he was trying to say but he was hugging him and that’s a good thing. “I’d hug you back but my arms are numb in a tingly way. Like when you play in the snow for a long time and then take a hot shower.”

“You weren’t breathing! You weren’t breathing and you wouldn’t wake up an-and you’re so cold.” His voice wanes at the end of his statement as he buries his forehead in the crook of Jonathan’s neck. “You were always warm in my hands every time you died, but you were just cold.”

Wait, hold up.

“I died?” Jon questions, with a befuddled expression. “I died more than once?”

“Jonathan, I don’t know what to do.” Damian forces out through his teeth. “You’re making my heart weak every moment I’m around you.”

“Awww-”

“-Tt- Not in a good way.”

“Oh.” Jon pouts shamefully.

Damian releases Jonathan into his lap and that’s when the boy notices he was on a floor instead of the grassy clearing he used to be in. Jon examines his surroundings to find that he was in a room made of ice. He flops onto his other side, not having complete use of his legs yet, to discover a Jonathan shaped indent in the wall. It was about his size with several long cuts along the edges of the outline. He tilts his head at the image and tries to stand up even though his body is still rather fuzzy. His efforts are for naught because as soon as he tries to lift his boot he’s instantly met with resistance. Jon looks to his feet to find them encased in a thick block of ice.

“Woah…” Jonathan breathes in awe at the sight. “This is so cool.”

“ARE YOU FUCKING MAKING JOKES!?” The older boy hollers furiously in Jon’s ear. “I FOUND YOU ENCASED IN A FROZEN COFFIN AND THE FIRST THING YOU DO IS MAKE A STUPID PUN! I SAW YOU DIE AND YOU DON’T EVEN CARE! YOU DON’T EVEN UNDERSTAND BECAUSE YOU’RE SO STUPID! HOW IS THIS NOT AFFECTING YOU!?”

Jonathan winces at the volume made worse by the echo in the spacious room. He does his best to calm the other down but he doesn’t get much of a chance to. “Dami-”

“I don’t know how to help you. I want to be your friend, I want to be with you, but these things keep happening to you and I don’t know how much more I can handle.” He cries into the palms of his hands. Jonathan wanted nothing more than to hold Damian tightly, but when he tried, Jon was pushed away and glared at. “I’ve watched you die three times. You died in my arms three times and each death eats at me worse than the last. Before we met, before any of this happened, you were safe. You were safe and innocent, yet the moment we meet I’ve only seen you suffer. You don’t understand how painful it is for everyone when you’re in these situations. Seeing you hurt and not even caring is- God Jonathan, it’s downright disturbing. You scare me.” At this, Damian’s scowl crumples and his expression falls into genuine anguish. “You’ve always scared me. You’re an actual nightmare that keeps me awake at night! You are somehow everything I fear mixed into one horrendous ensemble that also tricked me into caring for you for the rest of my life!”

Tricked?

Jon didn’t want to make Damian think that he has to be with Jon. He- Jonathan believed that they both wanted this at least a little. The half-Kryptonian knows that his devotion and love for Damian is infinite; he would follow the other to the ends of the earth. He’d do almost anything for Damian, but… But Jonathan doesn’t want to be the reason Damian can’t sleep. Is this why Damian hasn’t called him? Why hasn't Damian made an effort to keep in contact after all they've been through together?

“... Do you want to stop?” He asks shakily, scarcely above a whisper, but unconditionally confident.

“What?” Damian questions, voice airy, and dry from crying.

Jonathan gives his fiance a small yet reassuring smile. “Dami, do you want to stop? I mean stop having to care about me.”

Green eyes flutter in confusion before squinting at Jon in loathing. “Jonathan, I can’t simply turn off my feelings.”

“You didn’t answer my question, Damian.” He points out. “If I cause you more pain than happiness then you shouldn’t be around me. I… I can leave you alone.” The child’s voice cracks but he pushes on anyway. “I can leave you alone and you’d never have to worry about me again. I- I’m not your problem to fix or your responsibility. I don’t want to make you feel bad. You shouldn’t have to be scared of me. If I scare you then I’ll leave.”

“You don’t want that,” Damian says quietly, shaking his head.

“What I want doesn’t matter.” Jon retorts because it’s true. What Jonathan wanted never really meant anything. He messed up, he doesn’t know what he’s doing, and he’s not a good person like others say he is. He doesn’t deserve to have choices, but he doesn’t say that because Jon doesn’t want to guilt Damian into staying with him against his will. “What do you want?”

The ten-year-old takes a deep breath and study’s Jonathan’s body language. Damian dries his wet and reddened eyes with the black sleeve of his designer coat. He gazes at the child who is as still as the ice he laid upon and anticipating his answer. 

He sighs while giving Jonathan a calmly somber expression, “Okay, here we go.”

“Wha-” Jonathan begins to ask but it brutally smacks across the face which hurts a lot more than he remembers it hurting. “OW!”

“Sorry, I missed,” Damian explains unconvincingly because not only was Jon not moving in the slightest, Damian is a trained assassin. He raises his hand and smacks the child upside the head eliciting another painful grunt from the victim.

“OW! Why are you hitting me!?” Jon shouts as the older boy picks up a katana he failed to notice earlier then slices through the ice around Jonathan’s feet.

“Cause I’m awful with words and violence is a much easier medium to communicate through!” Damian informs as he makes quick work of the frozen block. “Jesus fucking christ Jonathan, I’m not fucking breaking up with you after you fucking died just because it ‘makes me feel bad.’ What kind of goddamn plebeian do you take me for?”

“But you just said-”

“I know what I said, it came out of my mouth!” He spits out viciously. “You don’t actively choose to be like this! You didn’t do this to yourself on purpose! You’re not a malicious idiot who wants any of this bullshit! You’re just a regular idiot who doesn’t know any better because others think your naivety is a good thing!”

That wasn’t very nice. “Wait, I’m confused.”

“-Tt- Not surprising.” Damian retorts condescending and it’s not that Jonathan has noticed that this is the first time in a while that the other has used that tone on him.

“Didn’t you say that I scare you? That’s not a good thing. And I hurt your giant cat-”

“Dragon Bat.”

“And you haven’t tried to call me. Don’t you… I thought you _didn’t_ want to be my friend anymore. Or a boyfriend. I’m still confused about that.”

Damian rolls his eyes and stops his efforts of freeing Jon to give him a thoroughly patronizing huff with one hand on his hip. “Jonathan, you scare me for an array of reasons. Your nonchalance for your own wellbeing is definitely one of them, but caring for someone so intensely who likes to play high-stakes tetherball with death is my main gripe.”

“I’m so lost right now.” Jon tells himself because he has no idea where this conversation is going anymore.

“Yeah, I know,” Damian replies and rubs the temples of his head before bringing his blade down one more time, freeing Jon before he could succumb to frostbite. “My problem isn’t with you- actually that’s a lie. I have so many problems with you and now is not the time to go into that. My real problem is that I have no basis on how to deal with my emotions. I (as some so eloquently vocalized) am what you call emotionally constipated. Instead of confronting the emotions and fear your very existence brings forth inside me, I decided the problem would solve itself if I were to simply ignore you. I didn’t want anything to happen to you whether it’d be emotionally or physically. I thought that I was the one putting you into these dangerous and toxic situations so removing myself from you would keep you safe. I was wrong because then I really was the problem.”

“...” The Kryptonian hybrid blinks up at Damian as the feeling in his feet gradually returns to him. The two stay quiet in the spacious icy cave for what feels like forever. As soon as he can move again Jonathan slowly stands up, wiggling his fingers and toes to make sure everything is fine.

He looks at his boyfriend softly, grateful that this was a misunderstanding yet upset that neither of them handled this well. “Dami… You’re not my problem either. You should have told me.” He sighs.

“I’m sorry, I know I messed up-” 

Damian never got to finish his apology as he is immediately hit in the gut by a surprisingly strong fist. Jonathan might have had his super-strength repressed, but that doesn’t mean the ex-farmboy is weak. While the fifth-grader was doubled over in pain the younger boy kneeled him in the face before Damian could come to his senses and realized what was happening.

“YOU SON OF A WITCH!” Jonathan growls and picks up the katana sheath next to him. “YOU’RE TELLING ME I’VE BEEN MAKING MYSELF FEEL BAD OVER FREAKING THIS!?”

“You can swear, Jon. No one is here to tattle on you, and I know people swore enough around you to grasp the words.” Damian jokes as he holds his bloody nose. “Ah, fuck!”

“Oh wow, would ya look at that?” Jon mocks in a snide tone. “It’s almost like hurting other people physically doesn’t help you understand things better. I wonder who could have known that already?”

“Sarcastic comments are beneath us.”

“No, they aren’t; you do it all the time.”

“... I…” Damian starts to dispute but quiets himself. His chin is raised by Jonathan moving it with the sheath so that he can look him in the eye.

“Or at least you used to do it all the time before our relationship became you trying to protect me. I don’t want another protector, I want a friend; I want you! You’ve stopped trying to see me as a friend and only saw me as some- some fragile pet that needs to be protected!”

“Your contention doesn’t work when you’ve literally died in my arms several times.” Damian hollers as he narrows his eyes to Jonathan’s deathly serious expression. “And that’s not even acknowledging the fact that your emotional instability is capable of nuking continents!”

An ugly chuckle reverberates from deep within Jonathan’s throat and the fluffy-haired boy runs his glove through his cold locks. “Your answer to that is to ignore me without giving me a reason; as if it wouldn’t make me feel terrible? Plus, I’m fully capable of getting myself into danger with or without your help, thank you very much.”

“Are you trying to reassure me?” Damian blurts out appalled because if Jon was trying to comfort him it’s not working.

“No, I’m just stating a fact.” Jon shrugs and hands him back his Katana holder. “Whether you’re here or not won’t change how much danger I’ll be in. I’m the son of Superman and Lois Lane. I know Batman’s secret identity. I’ve messed with the League of Assassins. I’m living proof of the existence of alternate realities. Were you involved in some of those? Yeah, sure. Does that change anything? No. It doesn’t matter if you’re with me or not. What matters is if you want to stay with me knowing all that. If you don’t, I won’t think less of you because it’s weird that this is my life now and you didn’t ask to be a part of it.”

“For fucks sake Jonathan, I’m not fucking leaving you over this!” Damian instantly repeats as he puts away his sword and throws his hands up. “I needed some time, but I promised to look after you for the rest of my life!”

“I didn’t ask you to do that!”

“I did it because I wanted to! I’m not doing this out of a sense of guilt! I’m doing this because you are the worst and best thing to have ever happened to me! I want to keep you in my life!”

“And how were you going to do that while ignoring me!?”

“I don’t know! I’m new at this and you’re still a raging fuck up with no self-preservation or consideration! Don’t put all the blame on me!”

“I know I have problems but don’t change the subject!”

“What is the subject anymore!?”

“I dunno! You’re the smart one!”

The two children begin to simultaneously scream in frustration, their unison shouting echoing off the hollow walls of the frozen cave. Damian stomps his feet before smacking his forehead to snap himself of whatever he was doing. “Okay, let’s not do this and focus on what’s wrong. You’re a magnet for terrible things and it’s emotionally draining. There is also the matter that this will most likely only get worse. We can’t control it and I have to live with that-”

“You don’t have to.” Jon pipes up again but is thoroughly ignored.

“But for the love of all that is good and holy, can you at least not make it worse by- by doing what you have been doing?”

“And what have I been doing?”

“EVERYTHING.” Damian hisses, clipping his katana to his side. “Don’t hurt yourself, don’t follow strangers, don’t actively seek out dangerous situations, stop trying to get in the way of things aiming for me-”

“But-”

“I know I told you to do that as my shield, but you’re not my shield anymore; You’re my fiance meaning you shouldn’t go dying for me.”

Jonathan frowns at that but lets him continue.

“Do not try to make friends with people who kidnap you, don’t make friends with strangers that run away from you, if we are in a dangerous situation don’t yell for the enemy to shoot you, don’t stand there and take a beating, and don’t make friends with assassins! I don’t care if it worked once because you have and will die because of these decisions. I also don’t care that you got better because you don’t know when death will stop returning you like a defective product from Ikea! The wedding vows are ‘for better, for worse’ and neither of us needs an excess of **worse** than we’re already going to get.”

The hybrid fidgets with his hands with a pout then looks up at his boyfriend. “I’m sorry. It must have been painful seeing me go through those kinds of things all da’ time. You must have felt awful worrying about me so much and I made things worse.”

Damian pinches the bridge of his nose with shut eyes and takes in a deep breath. “It’s utterly traumatic and if I wasn’t already in therapy for this I would go ask my father one by now. I want to protect you not only because I care for your well-being, but my own mental health.”

“I understand.” Jonathan laments before looking at Damian with his adorable large eyes. “As long as you don’t ignore me in some weird way of protecting me. Leaving me behind and out of things will make me worry and you’ve been doing that a lot. I’m not just talking about now, but also when you went back to your island. You were trying to keep me away for my own good, but you didn’t even talk to me about it. You just decided what was best for me without evening hearing what I’d have to say about it. It takes two people to be in a relationship.”

“I feel like we’ve had this conversation before.”

“And how many times do you have to hear it before it sticks?” Jonathan quips, crossing his arms. “Do we have to write this down cause I feel like we should? The last time we talked about how our relationship was supposed to go we didn’t write it down and we’ve been doing a no-so-good job at following our rules.”

“Marriage is a contract, so I’ll add it to the wedding binder.” Damian sighs, rubbing the inner corners of his eyes between his thumb and pointer finger.

Sky blue eyes blink at this newly introduced fact in bewilderment. “You made a binder for this? Actually- you’ve been planning our wedding without me?”

“I’ll add this to the list of stuff we need to work through before we get married.” The ten-year-old mutters under his breath before explaining to Jonathan, “I meticulously plan everything in my life, although recently I’ve had to account for the possibility of your upheaval of my designs.”

“There you two ar- Woah, that the heck happened in here?” Colin questions as he crawls through a small hole in the corner of the room, slinking like a worm.

Jonathan giggles at the sight and Damian groans, throwing his head back. “Finally, one of you incompetent neanderthals found your way here.”

“Well fuck you too.” The redhead quips, pulling his legs from the floor. “You try finding your way around an ice maze with the idea that one wrong move could possibly shatter Jonathan’s frozen corpse in half.”

“I can and did.” Damian shows by pointing at a very alive Jonathan and a large body print in the wall.

“Show off.”

Jonathan thinks for a second before asking, “Where are we?”

Pale blue eyes blink at him and Colin gawks at him incredulously. “You don’t know?”

“I think I accidentally froze myself, but I’m not dead. Also, this place is huuuuuuuuge!” The younger boy emphasizes this point by expanding his arms in a wide circle.

“Jon, you created a freaking mountain!”

“Huh,” Jon says curtly. “Why didn’t Chris just melt it with his heat vision?”

Damian rolls his eyes so far into the back of his head that the second-grader is terrified it was going to stick like that. “That was the first thing we tried. This ice is surprisingly hard to melt and he said he’s seen steel easier to liquify. Since that didn’t work I took matters into my own hands and found a path inside.”

“That makes no sense. If Chris couldn’t melt the ice with his powers how come you could melt the ice with your sword?”

Damian opens his mouth to answer but closes it as he realizes that it doesn’t make any sense at all. “I don’t know. My blade is purposefully dulled, so there really should be no way I could have cut you out.”

“This place is like a mirror maze.” Colin describes as he points to the pathways of varying sizes around them. “It would be cool if we didn’t think you were stuck in here.”

“I’m not stuck now! Let’s go play in the maze!” Jonathan cheerfully proclaims and runs to one of the holes in the walls. “This one looks like a slide! I like slides!”

“I see you two are feeling better. That means you two talked out your problems and Damian told you everything, right?” The tall child inquiries with relief as he skids up to Jon on the ice.

“Yep! We talked about our feelings! I mean, we need to keep talking about it but that can wait till later.” Jon agrees as he sits at the edge of the slope.

“That’s great! And you don’t mind?” Colin cautiously asks in a lighthearted tone.

Jon nods his head as his friend sits next to him, holding his arm so that the second-grader doesn’t prematurely fall down the slide. “No, I don’t mind. I know that Dami was trying to protect me, but it hurt that he didn’t say anything. He should have reached out more, but I probably didn’t make it easy to do.”

“I mean… That’s one way to put it.”

“You seem to know a lot about this, Colin.” The young Kent boy acknowledges as he slaps the cotton puffball on the other’s beanie. “Do you and Dami talk a lot about this? Not that that’s a bad thing- cause it’s good. Dami needs more friends than me. Not that he should have more friends like _me_ cause that’s different.”

“I mean, it’s kinda hard not to talk about it when we go on patrol together,” Colin says casually as he readjusts his hat only for the small gloved hand aiming for his hat to falter; accidentally smack him in the face. “Ow! Jon, what the heck?!”

“I’m sorry, what?” The boy asks as he cranes his neck to his fiance with the most unsettling smile imaginable. “What did you say, Colin?”

“Yeah, you know: Both of us secretly sneak out into Gotham to fight bad guys without you. We didn’t want you to come along and get hurt, but I kept telling Damian to at least tell you.” He elaborates easily and turns back to look where his friend was looking to find an obviously petrified Damian Wayne. All the color drained from his face giving the assassin a ghostly complexion, and he manages to take one step back before Colin shrieks, “Oh my God- DAMIAN!”

“COLIN WHAT THE FUCK!?” Damian ripostes as he backs away to a completely different pathway from the other two. “I SAID I WOULD HANDLE IT!”

“Wow, and you did such a great job by not doing that!” Colin yells at him in a sarcastic tone and shoots up from his seat to point at him accusingly.

“I was getting to that!”

Slowly, Jonathan stands up with his eyes hidden underneath his damp bangs making his expression unreadable to the older Gothamite boys. Jonathan clutches his shaking hands to his chest and both of them believe that the child was on the verge of tears. The room is dead silent as they await Jonathan’s reaction.

“You… You’re telling me that I shouldn’t do anything dangerous because you don’t want to see me hurt, but you’re out there fighting bad guys- something WE wanted to do together- with Colin?” Jonathan interrogates in a meek shaky voice.

“Jonathan, Habibi, beloved, I can explain.” Damian begins to defend with his hands up to shield him. “You see I have training and experience and- it’s not that I wouldn’t have brought you along. You said I could decide what I wanted to do with my life-”

“Dude.” Colin groans, dragging his hands down his face. “Don’t even try that one.”

“Colin,” Jonathan calls out evenly and coldly causing the male in question to jump. “Aren’t you always telling me that doing stuff like that is stupid and dangerous?”

The already pale boy is practically transparent with the amount of color that dissipated from his body as he to begins to back away from Jon. “I- okay yeah but there’s a difference.”

“Hello pot, meet kettle.” Damian scoffs as the fellow fifth-grader makes his way next to him.

“Shut up.”

The three boys stand opposing to each other in a western-style standoff, waiting to see who makes the first move, before Jonathan reveals his barely contained rage. His face is painted scarlet with the blood rushing to his head and his teeth bared in a primal demeanor. The smaller boy’s entire demeanor was vibrating to contain all of his emotions as he scrunched up face glares at the two.

“YoOoOOUuUUuU- You t-two-!” Jonathan tries to formulate words but he is so angry that his body isn’t listening to him.

“I’ve never been happier he was wearing that collar,” Colin whispers to Damian who silently agrees.

“YOU TWO ARE FREAKING HYPOCRITES!” Jon roars as he walks forward, picking up a shard of glass from the ground and tossing it at the duo. “I KILL YOU!”

“DAMI RUN!” Colin urges as he pushes the other down a random slope to avoid the sharp projectile. 

“YOU’RE DYING FIRST COLIN! **_THAT’S. MY. NAME!_ **” The Kryptonian hybrid rages as he grabs a chunk of ice the size and shape of a baseball. “I’ll bash your skull in!”

And that is how Damian learned about the concept of snowball fights… or at least an extremely terrifying and violent version of it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Jon if he ever made it to talking to God..  
> Jon: Hi, I'm Jon and I would like to speak to the manager.  
> An angel: Uh... you mean God.  
> Jon: -completely serious- Yes.  
> In the DCU God is named the Presense. Unless he ended up in a different patheon then either Zeus or Ra have some shit to explain. Comics are weird like that.
> 
> The image was taken once Damian learned how snow worked. At least that's what I like to believe cause yeah, it's a better ending than Jonathan committing murder.
> 
> God, I really hope anyone working on the actual super sons comic doesn't ever reads this fic cause I hear about many creators looking at their works' fanfics. That would be embarrassing, but I think I'm giving myself too much credit. Just in case: If you guys are reading this then I am so sorry and I'm just working through some shit right now. Probably a long shot that's never gonna happen, but now that I got that irrational fear out of the way I can move on!
> 
> Alternative titles for this chapter are: Jon dies again but it doesn't phase him anymore; Damian gets more trama; Frozen 3: The Wreckoning; and Local 7-year-old kills fiance's other partner (Jk, Colin is okay). Can't wait to read the comments on this chapter cause woooooooooo. This was a doozy to write. 
> 
> Next Chapter: Jonathan gets all his best friends together in one place for a fun party! It goes exactly how you think it would!


	44. Birthday Bonanza! (Part 1)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's Jon's birthday! Our seven-year-old protagonist is now eight! What fun will come of his celebration?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's my birthday week which means that now is the perfect time to write the fun wholesome birthday story! Thank you to all that read this far even though the fic is incredibly long! As always sorry for the grammar errors and happy holidays!

Jonathan Samuel Kent has always had a complicated but positive relationship with his birthday. His birthday lies in that horrid space between Christmas and New Year which meant that the celebration became a mixture of all of them. That also means that his friends only give him a single gift saying it would count for both his birthday and Christmas which isn’t fair. Jonathan has never said anything about it, but he hates that he gives his friends a special gift for both occasions while he only gets one. There was also the little problem that his birthday has never felt like his own as it’s always associated with a holiday and celebrated as such.

The seven- wait, no. The eight-year-old little boy has his own Christmas celebration with his entire family and now they were going to prepare for his birthday. He wonders how different his birthday was going to be this year since he won’t be celebrating it with his old friends from Hamilton County. He won’t be able to get his free scoop of ice cream, although that’s the least of his problems. A birthday is nothing without ice cream and Jonathan has inexplicably become allergic to dairy.

Even though everything should be okay now his body still rejects the sweet treat when it’s ingested. The smell of mac and cheese sometimes gets Jon going a bit green, so anything dairy is out of the question. That is why Jonathan is currently training to get his body back to normal!

“One… Two… THREE!” Kathy Braden shouts as she watches her friend chug an entire glass of milk down his mouth at the end of the countdown. “Do it! Do it! Do it! Come on Jon, I believe in you!”

Jonathan does his best to keep the fresh milk inside him, but alas his efforts were for not as the second the glass was empty the child rushed inside his house to the bathroom to throw-up. Several disgusting heaves later the boy returns to his backyard more light-headed than when he left. “Arrrggg… I don’t think the third time’s the charm…”

“It sure didn’t sound like it was.” The blonde braided girl winces as she hands Jonathan the liter bottle of ginger ale they had on standby. “So are we going for four or-?”

“Kathy, of course, we’re going to try again!” Jon declares as he takes a sip of the soda. “Quitters never win!”

“Yeah!” Kathy enthusiastically agrees as she walks back to the snow pile she placed the six-pack of bottled milk. “Lucky number four here we come!”

Jonathan uncaps the fourth bottle of milk and is about to down it in one motion when he hears his father call out to them. “Jonathan no!”

“Jonathan yes!” The hybrid replies as he goes to sip only to find the bottle missing. “Huh- Dad! Give it back!”

Clark releases an incredible long sigh as he pinches his nose under his glasses while his other hand holds the bottle out of his son’s reach. “Jonathan, Kathy, why are you two doing this?”

“Jon said that his therapist told him to and I wanted to help.” The farmer girl replies politely as she looks up at the towering man.

The Kryptonian turns to his child with a bewildered expression cast upon his face. “Jonathan, is this true?”

The boy nods his head looking up at his father innocently with his wide eyes. “Yep! She said that the more I do something the more I’ll get used to it.”

“And did Mrs. Queen say this specifically about the milk?”

“No, she was talking about doing school online, but it should be the same for milk!” Jonathan explains with his perfect unshakable logic.

“...” The man’s face went completely blank as if he was using all of his energy to process what he just heard. “I-... Alright. I see where you get that from, but you shouldn’t go forcing it like this. Throwing up is not good for you Jon, and if you keep this up then you won’t be able to eat cake at your party.”

“Bu’ I’m doin’ dis because of the party. I can’t eat cake if I can’t drink milk cause cake has milk.”

“Jonathan, there’s not going to be any milk in your cake.” Clark Kent explains to the children calmly while walking over to where the rest of the milk sat. “And there will be no milk at the party. If you still want to do this then you should have an adult watching you and start smaller.”

Wide childish eyes stare intently at the man, almost calculating if it wasn’t for the fact that it was also completely vacant, as the boy thought about the words told to him. “Oh… That makes sense.”

“I don’t get it.” The dairy farmer’s granddaughter pipes up, almost offended by the lack of progress they’ve made. “Jon and I are friends again, so why does milk still make him feel bad?”

Jon’s father scratches the back of his neck absently and replies, “I don’t have the answer to that, Kathy. There are many reasons why, but we shouldn’t try to force Jonathan to get better faster than his body is ready for.”

The little girl nods in response and the two children quickly move on from the event, albeit, slightly more downtrodden. There wasn’t much to do in Jonathan’s backyard, unlike the expansive field he and the other shared in Hamilton. Jon doesn’t think he’s ready to go back there anytime soon, so this is the best they could do for fun outdoor activities for the time being. While Jon would like to play near his fortress again his father has forbidden it due to the large ice labyrinth the eight-year-old accidentally created.

Jon has never seen his father so angry before and especially at Christopher of all people.

Speaking of Chris, even though the brunette Kryptonian is an adult, he’s grounded. The younger Kent doesn’t understand what grounding him is supposed to do seeing as Chris doesn’t have a life outside of taking care of Jonathan. He doesn’t go to school, doesn’t have a job, doesn’t have friends, and Jon doesn’t even think he’s seen the nineteen-year-old do any hobbies. His entire life since Jonathan met him has been watching over Jonathan. His parents didn’t force Chris to do that, but the Kryptonian took it upon himself to do so, and now he can’t do that anymore.

“Hey Dad?” Jonathan calls out to his father who is now sitting out on the tiny concrete porch watching him.

“Yes, Sport?”

“What does Chris do? Like, what does he do for fun?”

Clark is a bit startled by the sudden change in topic and tries to reply only to draw up a blank on what should be an easy answer for someone he’s adopted as his son. “I- Mmmm… Well, I don’t think Christopher has had the opportunity to explore himself. We should work on that.”

Jon nods his head totters over to a snow mound before slamming his body into it. Kathy silently copies his actions and the two second-graders lay in the cold for almost a minute. Afterward, the kids suddenly sit up and begin slapping their own and each other’s faces. The duo only stops when one of them says, “ow” before repeating the process. The Kryptonian looks at the two confused, but not concerned as he’s used to this odd ritual the two children have together.

Lois comes out to the backdoor in her work clothes and a Daily Planet embroidered coat with an exhausted expression when she notices the game the children are silently playing. “Are they doing that thing where they make their face go numb then seeing how long it takes till they regain feeling by hitting themselves?”

“Yep. They didn’t even talk about it, they just did it.” Clark sighs as he leans back on his cheap plastic porch chair. “Were we that odd as kids or is this a new thing?”

“Lucy and I used to play a game to see how far we could bend our legs back until we scream. The first one to cry loses.” The woman shrugs and closes the door so the heat wouldn’t escape. “What, you and Lana didn’t have any strange games?”

He thinks for a second before a memory enters his mind. “Now that I think about it we did have one game where we raced our wagons down the hill while throwing mud at each other. There wasn’t a winner or a loser in that game.”

“And you question them about their playtime?” Lois chuckles as she continues to watch her son and his friend.

Blue eyes roll fondly at the other and the adults continue to watch the children in silence before the pair get tired of their current activity and move on to a less violent form of play: making snowmen. After a while, once Jonathan and Kathy build a base, Clark turns to his wife and asks, “So how was work?”

She sighs tiredly replying, “Awful. Traffic was horrible, the subway was crowded, and Perry insists that I cover the winter formal when Jimmy and I agreed we’d switch stories for the week!”

“What?” Clark gasps in shock. “I thought he said-”

“I know what he said and he’s pissed too.” Lois huffs and crosses her arms. “But you know Perry. He says it’s better for everyone if I’m the one that takes it.”

“What about Jon’s birthday party? Do you want to postpone it? I know we planned for tomorrow but-”

“No, it’s fine but I’m going to have to call Bruce and tell him the change in plans.” She groans and rolls her neck. “We can work from there.”

“Got it.” Clark agrees and turns back to the children only to find them directly in front of him.

“Am I not going to have a birthday party?” Jonathan asks with tears threatening to fall from the corners of his eyes. The sight hurt the Man of Steel more than taking a punch to the face from Darkside ever could.

“Of course you’re going to have a birthday party, Sport,” Clark reassures, bringing the child in for a hug. “Don’t you even worry about that, we’d never miss your birthday!”

“We’ll need to rearrange some stuff a tiny bit, but you’ll still have your party.” Lois agrees with a confident grin. “And I promise it’ll be the best party you’ll ever have!”

“Really?” Jonathan questions skeptically.

“Really.”

Apparently, a tiny bit in his mom’s world means a whole lot in Jon’s. The child adjusts the bowtie around his neck and couldn’t help but think how this party was settling to not be his style at all. Kathy seems to agree as she waddles up to Conner’s bed, where she spent the night, in a poofy princess dress with her hair done up in tight pigtails. She looks at her friend judgmentally and Jon shrinks under the gaze.

“You know, city boy,” She says as she tosses a pillow at his face. “I know things were different from the farm but _this_? What happened to cake and games?”

“I didn’t choose this!” The hybrid defends as he adjusts his collar to give him some breathing room under Kathy’s scrutinizing eyes. “Where did you even get that thing?”

“Your Aunt Lana gave it to me. She said some weird stuff about her being a fashion designer or something.”

“Aunt Lana does a lot of stuff. She’s an engineer, a reporter, she draws fancy clothes, and she’s a superhero!”

“At the same time?”

Jon blinks and thinks about it. “I dunno.”

“This dress makes me feel like a princess and not in a good way,” Kathy informs him while climbing down the ladder of the bed and twirling in place at high speeds. “This is fun though! I’m like a drill!”

Jon spins around once only to realize that his light blue suit isn’t a dress and he cannot make it spin like Kathy’s dress. “Aw, it’s better than my suit.”

“Wanna trade?” She asks and is already beginning to try and take off the elegant gown.

“Nah, it’s for girls and I don’t think I could fit in it.”

“I’ll give you my slice of cake if you trade,” Kathy says seriously and lifts the skirt of the outfit to reveal shiny flat pink shoes with heart shapes around them. “I’ll even throw in these things.”

“Still couldn’t fit in it,” Jon repeats and goes over to his closet to look for a better pair of shoes for his friend.

Due to the boy’s inability to organize his wardrobe, several articles of clothes descend on top of him and fall to the floor. Jonathan picks the items up when he sees a familiar pair of boots he hasn’t worn in a long time. The shoes were still new, the same as the day his and Damian’s family made them except both red boots were missing the wheel on the heel. It was strange to find them now because he hasn’t seen them since the incident and he’s pretty sure he didn’t put them in his room.

“What do you have there, Jon?” Kathy inquires as she takes the rubber footwear from his arms. “These are cool! Can I wear these instead?”

“I…” And then he’s crying. He only knows that he’s crying because of the tears rolling down the side of his face because he doesn’t feel any different. He’s not sad, his nose isn’t runny, and his throat hasn’t clamped up. “Why am I-”

“Jon?” The blonde interrupts, backing away from him. “Your collar.”

“Huh?” Jonathan traces the metal with the tips of his fingers subconsciously. “What about it?”

She points at his neck with a nervous finger. “The yellow light on it is flashing. Is that a bad thing?”

“I… Yellow light?” Jonathan questions as he moves his hand to feel it out. “I don’t remember seeing a light on this thing.”

“It’s right there- Wait, where did it go?” Kathy questions and walks up to run her hands across the metal. “It was right there! I swear it was!”

“I believe you but it’s weird that I never saw one before.” He points out as the tears continue to flow. “Huh, how do I stop crying?”

“I dunno, maybe ice cream- wait, that’s a bad idea.” The seven-year-old answers before trying again. “Think happy thoughts! Uh- um… Ooo! I know, I know! Think about your party! All your friends are going to be there!”

“Actually it’s just going to be you, Dami, and Colin. My school friends can’t come and you’re the only friend from Hamilton that is still my friend.” Jonathan responds with a sigh and Kathy winces.

“Oops… I… uh-”

“Also Dami, who is supposed to be honest with me, has been lying to me for a month and the last time I saw him I threw an ice knife at his head. I think I hit Colin with a chunk of ice.”

“Uh… cake and presents?” She says in a forcefully cheery tone but her face appeared as though she ate an entire bag of sour gummy worms.

“Is it going to be a chocolate cake?” Jon asks and Kathy shrugs.

“I dunno. But it wouldn’t be cake if it wasn’t good like those weird adult cakes that aren’t sweet.”

“I like all cakes.” Jon states and he is excited about the cake, but he’s still crying. “I don’t think a cake was enough to stop this Kathy.”

“Okay, I got it!” The freckled girl takes a deep breath and plants her feet firmly on the ground, dropping the boots. “I never tried this before, but if it does work then we’re good!”

She closes her eyes and furrows her brows as Jonathan stares at his friend curiously when he feels his feet leave the ground. Jonathan’s eyes go wide as he flails his limbs before Kathy commands him to stop because it’s harder to lift him if he doesn’t stop moving. Going stiff as a board seemed to make things worse as he’s flipped upside down, yet the boy doesn’t care about that. This was almost as cool as flying!

“Kathy, this is amazing!”

“I know!” She shouts back, opening her eyes and grinning. “Grandpa never let me do this before! This is so cool and you’re kinda light.”

“Wow.” Jon breathes. “All the blood is rushing to my head.”

“Is that good?”

“Probably not, but I don’t care cause this is fun!” The boy cheers as Kathy attempts to turn him around only to spin him rapidly like a pinwheel.

“Wait, I can fix this!” She panics as Jon begins laughing, unaware of the danger he’s in. Due to her panicked mindset, Jonathan’s body moves even faster, and the boy squeals in delight as he flops his arms around.

“Weeeeeee~!”

It was at that moment his Aunt Lana opened Jonathan’s door dressed in a slim white and black knee-length dress with white ballroom gloves. In her hand is another pair of gloves except they’re the same shade as Kathy’s dress. The redhead peaks inside with a smile that quickly turns into a shocked gasp as she watches her godchild being cartwheeled midair.

“Jon!” She calls out and closes the door behind her quickly. The woman moves to Kathy’s side as the elementary schooler is moving her arms widely in a desperate attempt to stop her companion from moving dangerously.

“Kathy, it’s okay.” She coos to the girl with a gentle expression. “Sweety, look at me.” She tells her as she takes the fingers of her right hand to guide the scared girl’s face. “You’re doing a wonderful job.”

“Huh?” She blurts out in a bewildered voice. “But he-”

Lana shakes her head and stills Kathy’s hands with her own. “No, don’t pay attention to that. See what you’re doing? You’re moving him all on your own! It’s amazing!”

“But Jon-”

“Jon is having a great time.” She comforts and nods her head in the boy’s direction. “And Jon is going to be fine. Let me show you.”

Lana gets up from kneeling on the wooden floor, brushing down the wrinkles, and walking over to her nephew. Without hesitation, she snatches him out of the air perfectly upright before placing him on the ground. The boy pouts at the fun stops so abruptly and looks up at his aunt.

“I was having fun!”

Lana laughs at the huffy little boy and ruffles his hair. “Sorry about that Jon, but Kathy wasn’t having fun.”

“Huh?” He looks at his friend so she wasn’t having as much fun as Jonathan was. “Oh. Are you okay?”

The blonde nods slowly and forces herself to chuckle. “S-sorry about that Jon. I… I was scared I was going to hurt you and- and I shouldn’t have used my powers.”

“That’s not exactly right,” Lana tells her calmly. “You shouldn’t have used your powers without an adult around. Other than that I think you did great.”

Grassy green eyes blink at the adult hero astonishingly. “Seriously?!”

“Very seriously, but your grandfather does have rules for a reason just like Jonathan’s parents. Don’t let this scare you from trying again in the future because who knows when you might have to use your abilities.” She explains and pats Kathy’s shoulders. “Although, next time you two wanna play with your powers I suggest not doing it in a tight space with lots of sharp edges on the furniture.”

“Yes Ms. Lana.” Kathy agrees as she nods her head wildly.

She hums in approval before picking up the gloves she left on the floor and handing them to Kathy. “Good, now go put these on and finish getting ready. Once everyone is ready we’ll leave for the party, okay?”

“Okay!” The kids both agree at the same time and the woman leaves the room while leaving the door slightly ajar.

The two stand-alone in silence before Kathy says, “At least you’re not crying anymore.”

Jon touches his face to see that it was dry. “You’re right! It worked Kathy!”

“So does that mean I can wear those boots now?” She jokes, half-heartedly eyeing the boots.

“I guess so but they don’t have any wheels in them and my feet are bigger than yours,” Jon tells her as he watches her violently kick off her flats and slam her feet into the boots.

She takes a few experimental steps before nodding to herself. “They’re kind of big but they don’t feel too big. I’ve grown-up!”

Jon looks at her feet then back at his own dressed feet. “Wow, you’re right. Now that I look at it I don’t think those shoes will fit me anymore and it’s only been a few months.”

“Do you have any spare wheel?” She questions, looking through his closet.

“I don’t have any spares, but I have other heelies I could take the wheels from!” Jonathan exclaims as he takes the bright red wheels from a different pair of shoes for the girl. “I wish I could do the same thing but my pants don’t cover my feet like your dress does.”

“And that’s why we should switch and you can wear a dress!”

“I’m not wearing the dress, Kathy!”

“It suits you more, City Boy!”

“I’m not a City Boy!”

Jonathan and Kathy arrived at the party location which was on the top floor of a fancy hotel. The half-Kryptonian doesn’t know what to think about it as he thought his birthday would be a small affair in his kitchen and now it’s in a fancy play that doesn’t feel right. They pass a large hall that reminds Jonathan of Mr. Wayne’s ballroom but bigger. It was decorated with intricate ice sculptures and beautifully woven tablecloths. There were fancy foods on long handmade tables and a stage with a beautiful crystal chandelier above it.

Jon let out a sigh of relief when they passed by it.

Instead, on the other side of the hall were several smaller rooms. At the end of the hall, a good distance away from the entrance of the large ballroom. This room was decorated much more reasonably to Jonathan’s standards. It was not enormous, but it was large with lots of windows that overlooked Metropolis with an inflatable obstacle course and filled to the brim with cheap Justice League party decorations.

Jonathan and Kathy nearly push each other to the floor as they try to make a break for the inflatable playground but Lois holds both of them back firmly by the shoulder. “Up bup bup! Not so fast you two. Jon, you have to greet the guests before you can go play.”

“Does that mean I can go first?” Kathy asks and Jonathan drops with jaw dramatically at the utter betrayal.

“Kathy!”

“I’m kidding!” She was not.

Clark chortles at the kids’ interaction and adjusts the red tie of his suit. “Don’t worry you two, you won’t have to wait long. Unlike the fancy party down the hall, everyone will show up on time.”

Jon doesn’t get it, but his father seems to find his statement hilarious. Why was he even celebrating his birthday in this fancy hotel?

“Because your mom has to work at a fancy party.” Kathy replies and Jon jumps at the reply, not realizing that he asked the question aloud. “You didn’t, I’m reading your minds.”

“I forgot you could do that,” Jon says and his parents give each other a look.

“Kathy, you shouldn’t go reading people’s minds without permission,” Lois informs her lightly and Kathy flushes red in embarrassment.

“Sorry Mrs. Kent.” She apologies and turns to face Jon. “Can I read your mind?”

“Sure, I don’t think I have bad thoughts,” Jon replies casually. “But if I do have bad thoughts you can’t tell anyone!”

“I can do that.” Kathy obliges with a sturdy thumbs up.

Before Lois and Clark could say anything about that the Wayne family entered the room all dressed like models. Jon knows that his future in-laws always wore nice things even when they were simple casual clothes, but no one beats them in formal wear. They weren’t as dolled up as they were for Damian’s Birthday party, which makes sense, but they were still above anything Jonathan could have looked like. While everyone in Damian’s family was pretty his eyes scanned around for Damian himself.

Behind his eldest brother, Dick, was a hint of green eyes shyly staring at him before disappearing behind the man. It was very unlike Damian to be acting so aloof in an embarrassed manner. Curiously, Jon runs up to him but before he could see his fiance he already moved in the opposite direction of his brother’s body to block the view. Annoyed by the avoidance, Jonathan sprints in the other direction only to have the same thing happen. Gradually the two boys begin chasing each other using the unfortunate twenty-four-year-old man as a barrier.

During this game of cat and mouse, Colin comes into the room in a simple white dress shirt, brown slacks, and orange tie on the lap of Barbra Gordon. The second the wheelchair-bound woman enters the room the ten-year-old bursts out laughing at the scene before him and points at Damian rather rudely.

“Hahahahahahahaha! W-Haha! Wha-What the hell are you wearing!? Hahaha!”

Damian stops moving to flip off the newcomer and the sudden halt to their chase causes Jonathan to crash into the older boy’s side and fall to the floor. “-Tt- Fuck off, Colin!”

Colin returns the gesture and both boys are promptly reprimanded by their chaperones for the inappropriate behavior. A tan hand is shoved into Jonathan’s face and he grabs it with both hands so that Damian can pull him up. Once he’s back on his feet he sees that Damian is in a rather festive green and red tailcoat with a candy cane pattern on the inside. Jonathan thinks it looks nice, although it was a bit late to be wearing something so Christmas inspired.

“Dami, Christmas was almost a week ago,” Jonathan tells him slowly as if the other boy didn’t know that, and seeing how Damian’s childhood was like there was a chance he didn’t know.

The birthday boy’s words cause Colin to laugh even harder to which Jonathan is even more confused. Damian’s complexion goes through an interesting series of red-ish hues before setting on a dark scarlet that reached his neck. “I know, Jonathan. And speaking of Christmas I never gave you your Christmas gift.”

He reaches into his pocket and hands Jonathan a small manilla envelope which the child immediately opens to find a picture of Damian smiling. The smile was strained and somehow insulting, but it was a very Damian kind of smile that tells the person viewing it he’s better than them. He was also in his school uniform in the image so this was probably his ID picture. Dick leans over his little brother’s shoulder to see the image and he jokingly scoffs.

“Damian, I know your God’s gift to the world but I don’t think a picture of you is an appropriate present.”

The assassin crosses his arms and glares at his sibling condescending. “I don’t think so either but Jonathan asked for it.”

“He- What?”

Unaware of what was just said Jonathan beams brightly and hugs Damian, who goes still at the action. “THANKS, DAMI, I LOVE IT!”

“Jonathan did you seriously ask Dami-” Colin is stopped by a brief death glare from the innocent eyed boy and the redhead instantly changes his wording. “Damian. Did you seriously ask Damian for a picture of himself for Christmas?”

“Yes.” The boy reveals with a genuine smile and puts the image away with one hand, never letting go of Damian’s with his other hand. “I asked for it on Halloween.”

“Jonathan, haven’t you forgotten something?” Clark Kent asks teasingly as he plucks the envelope from his son’s fingers and places it into Jonathan’s backpack around his arm.

The half-Kryptonian thinks for a moment before remembering his manners. “That’s right! I need to say hi to everyone!” He turns to everyone and begins to politely greet each of his guests. It takes a while but they all go through their formalities in a fairly short amount of time. He stops at Timothy last, and instead of the normal hellos, Jon looks up at the teen who is doing his best not to look him in the eye.

Jon notices that there aren’t any bags under his eyes which almost look odd on the teenager. The last time he’s seen Tim without them was during Damian’s party. The boy smiles softly with a sense of familiarity underneath. With his free hand, Jonathan grabs the end of Tim’s gold striped tie and yanks on it hard. The teen slips from the unexpected pull and falls into Jonathan’s awaiting grasp as he uses his arms to hug Tim.

“Glad to see you’re doing better.”

The position is awkward due to the significant height difference but Tim released a long breath he didn’t know he was holding. He hugs the eight-year-old back tightly before letting go almost instantly. “Thanks, and happy birthday. Although… is it really your birthday?”

Jonathan blinks at that statement but doesn’t release the teen from his embrace. “What do you mean?”

“Nothing, it’s probably just another thing that’s different now.” He tells Jon but the boy is smart enough to understand what it meant. “Are you going to let me free, or do I have to stay bent over like this? I mean, I can if you want, but I don’t think it’ll be good for my back.”

Before Jonathan could answer Damian physically gets between them and pries the two apart. He glares at his youngest older brother with sharp eyes and lowly tells him, “You’re not allowed near, Jonathan.”

“Correction; I’m not allowed near Jon alone and unless I stand to be corrected we’re surrounded by- oh let me count. One, two, three, four- Would you look at that? A whole plethora of people.” Tim replies in a snarky patronizing tone.

Damian bristles at the words and Jon notices him flick his wrist to reveal a tiny knife. Jonathan calmly takes the blade out of his hand before he motions to stab his sibling and casually hands the knife to his father. “Where did he-?”

“Uncle Clark, I’m so sorry!” Dick cries as Bruce sighs behind him. “I don’t know why but he started carrying weapons with him again. I made sure to check him before we left!”

“Dami, you can’t stab people on my birthday,” Jon informs him as though he was talking about something mundane as shouting begins to rise behind him. 

“Urrrrgggghhhh!” The boy groans, throwing his head back in annoyance. “Why must you be so against it?! I’m not going to kill him! … Yet.”

“Besides the obvious, there’s a bouncy house and I don’t want you popping it!” Jon exclaims happily, pointing at the blue and red obstacle course.

“I’ll aim elsewhere.”

“Dami!”

A fabricated cough from Jonathan’s mother alerts the two to the entrance where more people began entering from, perplexing the birthday boy greatly. Lois waves her hand to the multitude of adults and children entering the room, most of whom Jonathan doesn’t recognize. “Uh… Do I know y’all?”

His mother smiles and explains the presence of the strangers at her son’s party. “Jonathan, you met these people before. This is simply the first time you’re meeting them without the costumes.”

Costumes?

Jon thinks incredibly hard for a few seconds before he spots a beautiful strong woman in the crowd who towers above everyone with silver arm braces, and it all clicks. “Holy cow.”

From the back of the room, Kathy screams in excitement due to having read Jonathan’s mind and consequently deafening the redhead standing next to her. “OH MY GOSH, IT’S THE JUSTICE LEAGUE!”

“OOOOWWWW! MY EARS!” Colin shouts before the information settles into his mind. “HOLY CRAP IT’S THE JUSTICE LEAGUE!”

All the children run up to the heroes in their Sunday best and begin trying to guess who was who out of costume. Unfortunately, none of the adults were willing to give in so easily much to the children’s dismay. While that was happening Jonathan noticed a trio of children both older and younger begin placing gifts on an empty table for him. Jonathan couldn’t help but feel bad that these strangers were giving him stuff with him even knowing who they are.

He walks over to the group and vaguely recognizes some of them, but for the life of him, Jon couldn’t recall their names. “Hi! I’m Jonathan!”

Two children, a girl with red pigtails and a boy with spiky black hair, smile up at Jonathan with matching grins. “Hi! I’m Jai and this is my sister Irey!”

The pigtailed girl reaches out and excitedly shakes his hand speedily to the point Jonathan’s arm is getting numb. “We’re twins!”

The boy, Jai, frowns at his sister with disapproval. “You weren’t supposed to tell him, he had to guess!”

“I forgot!” She gasps and sags her shoulders. “Aw man, there goes the surprise.”

“It’s okay, I wouldn’t have guessed it!” Jon tries to reassure before turning to an older boy in a red hoodie and jeans. He’s kind of jealous he’s not wearing the same stuffy clothes as the rest of the guests. It only takes a second for the half-Kryptonian to recall where he met him before. “You’re Billy!”

Billy lets out a hearty but nervous laugh at that and gently shakes Jonathan’s hand. “Hey Jon, Damian. Nice to meet you two again. Sorry I’m underdressed, but this was kinda a last-minute thing for me.”

“It’s okay! I didn’t even know there were going to be more people here.”

“-Tt- Why are you even here? To spy on the ‘children’ as one of us?” Damian accuses under his breath at a not-so-subtle volume.

Billy blinks at the younger boy and looks at Jon with a raised eyebrow. “Uh… no? I’m here for Jon’s birthday party.”

Jon beams at the boy with a bright comforting smile and tells him, “Don’t worry about Dami, he’s just a very skep… Sketch-pickle-”

“Skeptical.”

“Skeptical person. He’s making sure we’re safe!”

“Well in that case feel free to be as cautious of me as you like, but I only want to have fun with everyone.” Billy says playfully then quickly ruffles Damian’s hair. If Jonathan wasn’t holding his hand he’d stab him with the six other throwing knives in his sleeve.

A flash of red and white rushes past them and Impulse is suddenly there holding the amused twins next to Jonathan. “Aww, did you two miss your favorite speedster?”

“Bar- Impulse.” A red-haired man in a simple black suit scolds easily. “This is a no-uniform event.”

“Come on cuz, Jonno knows who I am. Isn’t that right Jon?” The auburn-haired teen grins at him with both his eyes and lips only for the said boy to shrug.

“I dunno who you are.”

Impulse balks at his declaration while the twins in his arms giggle at his suffering. “Bwa-Huh?! You don’t know who I am?”

“Not really.” The birthday boy reaffirms casually. “I know your Impulse but I’ve never met you outside of your costume.”

“Oop.” The teen says and hands the children over to the man before running out of the area faster than Jonathan’s eyes can process. Before he could question what just happened the teen returns in an ill-fitting dress shirt and slacks, but his red shoes remain the same. “There, now you know who I am! I’m Bart Allen!”

The man with the kids groans and drags his hands down his face. “That was the complete opposite of what you were supposed to do.”

“I… Wait- Oops. Again.” He winces and removes his orange-tinted goggles. “Eehhh, if anyone was gonna blow their identity it might as well have been me. Am I at least first?”

“Bart, this isn’t a contest on who can mess up.”

“Well it is now and I’ve declared myself the winner!” He boasts proudly. 

Damian and Jonathan give one another shared looks of bewilderment before shrugging and moving on to greet more of the guests that came. Jon is glad to see that the last people, or what he believes to be the last people, to enter his party is his own family. Kara, his paternal grandparents, and even his mom’s family enter in simple formal wear.

“Hi grandma, hi grandpa, hi grandpapa, hi Aunt Lucy, hi Uncle Ron, hi Sammy, hi Kara!” He greets in one breath before deeply inhaling again.

“Happy Birthday, Jonathan.” Martha Kent coos and pinches his and Damian’s cheeks much to their displeasure. “And hello Damian! How is the farm going? Good, I hope?”

“It’s-” Damian starts as he frees himself from the iron fingernails assaulting his person. “The advice you’ve given me was beneficial and I’ve modified it to my needs.”

“Modified huh?” Jonathan Kent, the grandfather, smiles. “What for? I’m sure Jerry doesn’t need that much.”

Jonathan grins and excitedly elaborates. “Dami made a big farm with a cow, a bunch of cats-”

“Only two.”

“A dog, and a bat!”

The older man and woman’s smiles grew in size and they almost looked close to tears. “Martha, I guess we don’t gotta worry about the family tradition going out of style anytime soon. Kent boys sure know how to pick-em.”

“I adopted three chickens and a duck since the last time you visited,” Damian adds, looking at Jon and the boy’s eyes go wide.

“Three- Dami, I think you have an adoption problem.”

“It’s only a problem when it hinders my ability to function properly.”

“No, Dami, I’m serious. How many animals are you going to bring to the farm? You live in Gotham! Where are you finding these animals?”

“Oh, I almost forgot to tell you about the pig. I found her in a slaughterhouse next to the pier.”

“Dami, you’re even forgetting them! This is a problem.”

“It’s okay, Jon!” Jason shouts from across the room next to the buffet table. “It’s genetic! Worry when he starts kidnapping children!”

“Jason, he’s ten!” Richard yells next to his little brother. “You can’t make jokes like that!”

“I think kidnapping is a problem no matter the age, but whatever you say Dicky.”

“Hey Jon,” An older black man in a blue vest and tie greets while holding his baby in his arms. “I see that you’ve grown since we saw you last year. Soon enough you’ll be taller than me.”

“Hi Uncle Ron!” Jon returns and steps up on his tip-toes to get a better look at the baby. “Hi Sammy! Can he walk yet?”

“I’m afraid not.” A woman with light caramel hair answers and gives Jon a tight squeeze. “Aw give your Aunt Lulu a hug!”

Jon does indeed hug his aunt and she kisses his cheek in appreciation. “There we go! And who is your little friend?”

Instantly, Jon is jumping on the front of his feet as he boldly shows off a rather apathetic ten-year-old. "This is my boyfriend-”

“Fiance.” Damian corrects plainly.

“ _Fiance_ , Damian Wayne!” Jonathan amends in the same chipper tone.

His maternal relatives blink at each other, minus Jon’s baby cousin, before the couple looks at Jonathan’s grandfather. He was a broad and muscular man with stark white hair unlike the grey of the boy’s other set of grandparents. He was dressed in a plain white button-up and tan pants but the conservative wear did nothing to hide the years of military training the general had endured. General Samuel Lane was not like the Kents in many ways one of them being his stoic demeanor and heavy frown-lines.

The elderly man turns to his eldest daughter who simply stared back at her father with assertive lavender eyes and crossed arms. “Dad, it’s Jonathan’s birthday. Aren’t you going to say anything?”

The stoic man silently turns to his grandson who was smiling up at him expectantly before turning to the child’s self-declared betrothed. He sticks his hand out for the billionaire’s son to shake and Damian cautiously obliges.

Their hands don’t move up and down unlike a normal handshake, and instead, the males simply hold them in place as they glare at one another. Jonathan is extremely confused about what the heck was happening and this was a weird greeting. Then again, his grandpapa was never one for enthusiastic hugs and kisses.

After what felt like forever, the veteran cricks the corners of his lips to be a neutral line instead of a frown. “Firm grip.”

“Thank you.”

“You’re not one of _them_ , are you?” Jon’s grandpapa asks much to the confusion of Jon and the disappointment of his mother.

“Dad!”

Damian studies the man’s face and sneers at the man as though he wasn’t nearly three feet shorter than the other. “And what if I was?”

At this, the General smirks and scoffs at the child. “Then you better be grateful I’m retired.” He looks at his grandson and pats him on the head. “This one’s got moxy. Happy birthday, kid.” the man reaches into his pocket and gives his grandson two hundred dollars before walking away to converse with the other patrons at the party.

The moment the two boys see that Samuel Lane wasn’t turning to look at them any time soon Damian clutches his hand tightly and groans. “Arrrgh, your grandfather just tried to break my hand!”

“Oh, so that’s what he was doing!” Jon chimes with recognition. “Yeah, he likes doing that to people. I once saw him make Uncle Ron cry doing that.”

“Hey, I wasn’t crying! My hand was injured and the handshake was just irritating it.” The uncle defends albeit unconvincingly.

“It’s okay Honey, you don’t have to say anything,” Lucy tells her husband with a humorous smile. “Daddy does that to all the guys Lois and I dated or even liked since we were five. Says it’s a test of character.”

“And now it’s going to be for Jon too.” Lois chuckles. “Although I didn’t expect him to do it today.”

“A boy is a boy, Lo.” The light-haired brunette sighs and the sisters giggle together.

Jon looks at Damian’s hand with concern but the older child brushes him off. “It’s fine, I’ve had worse.”

The eight-year-old hates it when Damian tells him something like that but lets the topic slide. His attention is diverted when Kara swoops in behind him and takes the money in his hands. “Whoopsie! You shouldn’t be carrying that much cash on ya. I’ll put it in your bag.”

“Hey!” Jon whines but doesn’t make a move to reach for the cash. 

“Birthday boy or not, that’s too much money for a baby.” She teases and hugs him tightly before looking for his bag. “Happy Birthday Jon!”

“I’m not a baby!” He shouts as the blonde cousin gets lost in the crowd. “Huh. Welp, at least I can start paying you back with that money.”

“Jonathan, I don’t care about that,” Damian says but the other frowns.

“But I don’t want to owe anyone anything.” He replies.

Knowing that arguing with Jonathan was the equivalent of trying to convince a brick wall it was not a wall at all he let it slide. He made a mental note to put any money Jon was going to give him in a separate bank account. “This affair is different from the other parties I was forced to endure. What would you like to do?”

“Bounce house!” Jonathan eagerly answers and drags Damian to the entrance of the inflatable structure. He takes off his coat and shoes, throwing them on the tarp below, before leaping inside. “Come on Dami! I bet Kathy and everyone already went in without me!”

“This isn’t going to be like the last playground experience we had, is it?” Damian questions as he carefully lays his tailcoat on the back of a nearby chair.

“No, these are safe! We can fall all we want and not get hurt… unless you slide super extra fast and get rope burn. Or it pops and then you get stuck inside and the fire department has to cut you out before everyone suffocates to death. But we’re surrounded by superheroes so that’s not going to happen.” Jonathan flippantly explains before flopping onto his back and rolling away into the darkness.

Damian stands there frozen in a mixture of terror and confusion when he feels a hand pat him on the shoulder from behind. Colin drops his loafers unceremoniously and gives the shorter fifth-grader a small grin. “If you don’t want to go in, that’s fine by me. My abilities are better for protecting Jonathan anyway.”

“Colin I swear to God-” Damian hisses causing the taller’s smile to widen.

“Oh, I’m sorry, what happened to all that gusto you had about being a better partner and trying not to be phased by anything?” The redhead mocks in a sing-song tone. “But it’s _fiiiine_. If you don’t want to do it, I will. I’m not scared of a little fun and danger. It’s really hard to top Jon and I’s first meeting so I can handle this. I’m already waiting for shit to go sideways.”

“I’m not scared of a stupid inflatable monstrosity!”

“I know you aren’t but what am I?”

“That doesn’t even make any sense!”

“By the way, I know you have that whole, ‘I’m better than everyone because I’m serious and mature’ thing going on, _buuuut_ that Billy kid is older and sure gets along better with Jon than you ever could,” Colin reports as he points to the top of the slide where Billy Batson proceeds to playfully kick Jon down.

“THIS IS SPARTA!”

“Weeeeeee~!”

“That’s cool. Sure you don’t have much in common with Jon, but he’ll still love you… For now-” He finishes to see that Damian has already made it to the top of the obstacle course in record time and violently stomps his foot into the other’s back in the opposite direction. “Wow, he is fast.”

Barbra rolls up to the ten-year-old with a sly smile and playfully swats him in the arm. “That wasn’t very nice of you, Colin.”

“I know.” He shrugs casually. “But if he’s going to drag me around Gotham to save animals, explore random buildings, and take me on a crusade against Santa for breaking into homes then I have the right to fuck with his head. I think I’m getting better at it.”

“Language.” She laughs. “And how long have you been doing this?”

“I stopped keeping track and stopped caring.” He picks up his shoes and puts them on the tray under the woman’s wheelchair. “I’m going to go play! If they start cutting cake can you save me an end piece?”

“Sure I will, but go easy on him,” Barbra suggests and lightly pushes him forward. “It’s amusing to mess with the Wayne boys, but it’s all fun and games until someone gets knocked in the face.”

“Make sure it has lots of frosting!” Colin calls out, ignoring her advice, as he plunges inside the play area and into the ball pit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, after HOURS of searching I figured out that Jon doesn't have a freaking birthday at the time of this chapter updating. It will probably be revealed in the future but for now, I made it sometime between December 26-January 1. I'm going to go with the explanation of AU shenanigans to explain that away. I'm giving these kids a break and going to write a fun birthday story!
> 
> Jonathan doesn't interact with the Lane side of his family much (for good reason in the comics) so I thought I would put that in here cause he has more family than his Super one. The next part is going to be them enjoying the party and some surprises for Jonathan! Thank you and I hope to hear your thoughts! If not, Thanks for reading! 😊🥳🎉🎆🎇🎁🍰🎂🧁🎊🎄


	45. Birthday Bonanza! (Part 2)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jonathan's birthday continues! Nothing weird is going on at all!🎂🎉🎁

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I LIIIIIIIIVVVEEEEE!
> 
> After my impromptu vacation cause I have no control over my life, I'm back! This is a busy semester for me so updates won't be as frequent as they used to but at least I'm here! (I say that but my update schedule has always been wonky lol) I like to thank all the new readers that are here, cause I see y'all, and thank my already dedicated readers for still being here after that mini-hiatus. Thank you and I hope you enjoy it! also sorry for grammar errors, it's been a hot minute for me RIP.

Jonathan Samuel Kent used to believe that older people were smart and knew what they were doing. It makes sense since those who lived long lives have more knowledge of the world around them. That’s why adults rule the world because they’re supposed to be smart, they’re supposed to know better, They’re supposed to know what’s right. Jonathan never realized just how narrowed his world view was until the day his father opened up to him about his world. Hamilton was created as a bubble to keep Jonathan complacent, stagnant, and ignorant. It was a place that could only create joyful memories, and where the pain wasn’t real. Every scraped knee, cat scratch, and stubbed toe was followed by gentle hugs, loving kisses, and a fun superhero-themed bandage.

It was only after he was forcibly ripped from his fake utopia by his hands that he was able to grow as a person. Jonathan was finally able to live a life that was his own with everything that comes with it. Most of what comes with life, or at the very least his life, was painful. Emotionally, physically, and spiritually painful. Even so, if given the chance to go back to the time where everything was mundane and he wouldn’t feel any true pain he would deny it. 

Although the reality of being a Kryptonian is a strenuous one the released secret has also given him the ability to truly appreciate the good he does experience. Birthdays are better when he’s surrounded by friends and superheroes! He wishes that they came in costume or used their powers instead of talking like normal boring adults, but his dad has been against it. Oh well, at least he’s enjoying life’s little pleasures.

“Dami! Dami! Dami!” Jonathan cheers as he flops on the floor of the bounce house like a fish every time the oldest boy, Billy, jumps on the other side. “This is fun! You should try it!”

Empty emerald eyes stare at the odd sight before him as if he was desperately trying and failing to comprehend the thin line of logic that the birthday boy spouted. Damian is skilled in a great array of subjects yet most of what Jonathan says seems to be complete gibberish which frustrates him to no end. What makes it worse is that other people who are far more inferior than he is can sometimes understand the words being vomited out of Jonathan’s mouth. Wasn’t Damian his fiance? Isn’t he supposed to be the person that should understand Jonathan the best?

The blonde girl in the light pink dress and sun-kissed skin, Kathy, joins the newly minted eight-year-old on the ground where the two laugh as their bodies are violently thrashed about. What is this strange ritual they were performing? He turns his gaze to the twelve-year-old in the red hoodie merrily jumping about like what he was doing was completely normal, for all Damian knew maybe it was, and sharpens his eyes.

Billy notices this and simply waves at Damian with a blindingly kind grin that does nothing more than grind his gears. He grasped that the boy was a sorcerer harnessing the power of the Gods and a fully-fledged member of the Justice League who would be unphased by the son of Batman. This makes him more of a threat.

A threat to who? A threat to Jonathan’s security, a spy for Superman, someone their age that could easily be trusted by the naive boy to keep his beloved suppressed and collared. More importantly, the decision to suppress Jonathan must have been a unanimous decision by the JLA and one of the main officers in that committee was Shazam. Shazam; A god damn twelve-year-old. How could their families justify keeping Jonathan and him docile when Shazam walks among them unhindered!?

That was the only reason Damian was antagonistic towards the older boy, and not because he was able to be so genuinely sweet in a way Jonathan was more inclined towards. Who’s threatening his relationship? No one, that’s who because no one else could compare to Damian.

“Keep telling yourself whatever you’re thinking and maybe you’ll believe it.” Colin drones out from beside him as he tosses a colorful plastic ball from the pit next to the group where it bounces playfully. 

“I didn’t say anything.” Damian scoffs, crossing his arms.

“I never said you did.” The redhead shrugs. “You’re a surprisingly loud thinker. I can’t read your mind but I can see you think way too much. Kinda like how Jon does but he doesn’t focus on one topic.”

The slightly shorter boy huffs and turns his nose away at the other condescendingly. “Don’t act as if you know me, Wilkes.”

“Oh, so we’re back on a last name basis again? Okay, what should I call you: Wayne, Al-Ghul, or Kent?” Colin asks and Damian nearly snaps his neck with the speeds at which he glowers back to witness the brat give him, what Todd would label as, a shit-eating grin. “Don’t dish out what you can’t take.”

“I swear to any deity or devil out there if Jonathan wouldn’t miss you I’d kill you.” He announces shaking a fist at the fellow ten-year-old.

It’s Colin’s turn to scoff as he lightly punches the billionaire’s son on the shoulder. “No, you wouldn’t.” 

“Brave words for someone within stabbing distance.”

“Dude, when it comes to you, everyone is in stabbing distance.”

“Dami!” Jonathan squeals in delight as he forcefully rams himself into Damian’s side in a tight hug like an overly excitable puppy causing the boy to freeze. “Dami I’m bored, let’s go play on the slide together!”

Damian shoves his hand into Jonathan’s face, prying the other off of him with a quirked brow. Jon was clearly enjoying himself a couple of seconds ago so why the sudden disinterest? He shouldn’t be shocked as Jonathan always had a rather short attention span. At least sliding made more sense than sloppily allowing their bodies to be abused by the laws of gravity on the blue vinyl flooring. “Alright, lead the way.”

The two boys freely play together for another hour until Jonathan hears his father call for him. “Jonathan! Kids! The food is here!”

Hearing this, the hybrid tumbles ungracefully down the slide shouting, “Okay! We’re coming!”

“Finally! I’m starving!” Colin shouts as he follows Jon with Kathy nodding frantically beside him.

“I could eat a horse, I’m so hungry!”

Disgusted and offended by the statement Damian gasps, “Why in the world would you consume a horse? Is your species so depraved that you resort to harming innocent stallions and mares?”

“What, no!” The blonde girl yells, throwing her hands up in shock. “Why would I eat a horse!? I love horses! I know a horse!”

“You just said you’d eat one! Do your words not have any meaning?”

“Damian, it’s just a saying.” Billy pipes up politely from behind the assassin as the twelve-year-old manages to balance two hyperactive speedsters on his lap. “A figure of speech. She’s saying that she’s so hungry that she would eat anything. I doubt Kathy would want to eat a real horse.”

“I know what a figure of speech is!” Damian growls before turning away from the magic-user and launching himself off of the slide and out of the inflatable obstacle course.

Jonathan trots up to his father with a blinding grin and hugs his waist before looking at the stacked boxes of pizzas on the plastic table. “PIZZA!”

Clark chuckles at his excitable son and ruffles his hair. “Yep, pizza! We got many toppings for everyone so y’all can eat whatever you want. And don’t worry Jon, I made sure that there had some dairy-free options for you.”

The children all rush to the table to grab their plates as some of the older guests help serve them. Gleefully Jon strolls to the table, grabs a Justice League paper plate, then begins to stack slice after slice of vegan pizza on his plate. It’s obvious to anyone that spent a minimal amount of time with him that Jonathan hates veggies on pizza, yet continues to fill his plate with such. Seeing this, Damian stops his wrist with a roll of his eyes before taking the patter from his fiance’s fingers. “Jonathan, you hate vegetables.”

“I don’t hate veggies! I like tomatoes and olives!” Jonathan huffs as he reaches for his plate.

“Tomatoes and olives are fruits.” Damian deadpans holding the paper plate higher out of the younger’s reach.

The statement causes Jon to freeze as he attempts to wrap his head around it. “... Wha?”

“Tomatoes and olives are fruits.” The older repeated in the same monotone. “That isn’t important. Why are you forcing yourself to eat this?”

“Because you like veggies.” The boy pouts, shuffling his feet. “And I thought since we’re… ya know, that we should like more of the same things.”

“By lying to yourself about your own taste you thought it would bring us closer.” He summarizes curtly with a still glare.

Sky blue eyes blink at Damian for a moment before retracting himself while scratching the side of his face apprehensively. “I mean… when you put it like that it doesn’t make any sense. I still want to try things you like.”

“Jonathan, I know the concept of moderation is foreign to you, but if you want to try something then don’t be needlessly wasteful.” He tells Jon as he hands Jon an empty plate with his free hand and gives him one slice of vegan pizza.

“Oh… That makes sense.” Jonathan says and begins serving himself sausage and pepperoni pizza.

Once they all had their meals in hand the children were seated at a table with a plastic Justice League covering it. Some of the adults in the room chuckle and comment on the depictions of their fellow colleges on the cloth, but Jonathan didn’t pay too much attention. There were far more important things to worry about such as which soda he should drink.

“Why are you getting veggie pizza?” Colin asks Damian incredulously pointing at the concerning amount of greens on his plate. “Isn’t the point of pizza not to eat healthily?”

“Some people don’t want to treat their bodies as low functioning grease machines.” The fifth-grader shrugs. “Besides, I’m more accustomed to it.”

“Yeah, when we were at Dami’s house there was this thing there that kinda looked like pizza, but wasn’t because there wasn’t any red sauce and it had too many veggies,” Jon recalls as he remembers the uneaten meal Nobody gave him. “That reminds me,’ He turns around in his seat to the pizza table where the teenagers were currently being served. “TIM! What happened to my pomegranate!?”

Ignoring the confused looks being directed his way the teen calmly replies, “I threw it into the ocean.”

“Aw man…” Jon sighs as he’s suddenly craving fruit. He sedates the urge with pizza and gets over his short-lived desire rather quickly. “Oh well!”

Colin has long since become used to his friend’s odd antics and goes back to the original conversation. “Dude, every time I hear about your life it gets worse.”

Green eyes roll at the redhead arrogantly as he takes a casual bite of his meal. “I’m informed that this is the appropriate reaction.”

“Is there anything good about it?” The boy teases, playfully jabbing the fellow fifth-grader in the shoulder with his index and middle fingers. “Like, something nice and doesn’t end badly.”

“There are some things that weren’t awful, but by your standards, they’re still likely to appear as horrendous.”

“My standards are normal.”

“Your normal is mediocre.”

“Your mediocre is fucking trash.”

“Colin!” Barbra scolds from the adult’s table parallel to their own. “What did I say about that potty mouth of yours?”

“Sorry, Miss Barbra!” Colin calls back loudly with a grin showing that he’s not at all apologetic for his actions.

During the conversation, Jonathan became more viably bothered by the fact that Damian wasn’t paying attention to him. With a huff, the half-human boy stuffs his face with the food on his plate in an effort not to look as annoyed as he felt. Kathy, being a literal mind reader and friend, reaches across the table to place more slices of pizza from her plate to Jon’s. In her mind, because she can follow Jonathan’s spiraling path of logic, this was a perfectly normal reaction. Having to vocalize his discomfort about not being the center of attention will make him selfish and Jonathan doesn’t want to be that.

Two slices of Kathy’s pizza later Billy sees the rapid pace the birthday boy was consuming extra cheesy slices of pizza with a fitting amount of concern. “Jon, slow down, the pizza isn’t going anywhere. You’re going to get a stomach ache at that rate.”

Coming out of his stupor, Jon snaps back to reality and looks down at his plate to see a slice of cheesy alfredo pizza on his plate. He doesn’t remember getting it but he’s never one to waste food. He takes a great big chop from the pizza slowly to savor the taste when the auburn-haired girl, Irey or Iris, comments on it.

“I thought Jon couldn’t have cheese pizza.”

Her brother scoffs and tells her with the confidence of a six-year-old, “Obviously not if he had three of them!”

Kathy and Jon’s eyes widen to disproportionate sizes simultaneously as the boy’s face turns an interesting shade of green. Billy, being a big brother, recognizes the obvious signs of a sick child and swoops in to carry Jonathan to the bathroom. “Mr. Kent, where’s the restroom; Jonathan’s sick?”

Quickly, Jonathan’s father ushers the boys out into the hall to the rather fancy white-marbled bathroom before anyone could grasp what was happening. Jonathan is carried into an empty stall and violently reacts to the dairy while cradling the toilet bowl. His dad rubs his back in soothing circular motions before adjusting his glasses and nodding his head at the twelve-year-old accompanying them.

“Thanks for helping Jon, Billy. I’m sorry that we had to bother you for this.”

“It’s no problem at all Mr. Kent. I do this for Darla all the time when she gets brave and breaks into the snack drawer.” The boy reassures as he moves over to the sink to wash off some of the throw-up that got caught on the shoulder of his hoodie. “Trust me, it’s a million times grosser than anything Jonathan here can do. At least he tried to restrain himself, Darla doesn’t care where she is.”

The reporter laughs at the tidbit of information. “Haha, I’ll be sure to keep that in mind for next year’s picnic. Here, you can leave your jacket with me and go back to the party. I’ll wash it for you, it’s the least I can do.”

“Nah, it’s okay Mr. Kent. I’m in no rush and it’s not like it’d be fun without the star of the show here.” Billy jokes. Jon tries to respond with something polite and encouraging but is unable to with the amount of pizza escaping his mouth. Instead, he makes a weirdly vague hand gesture that no one on the planet could comprehend. The sixth-grader, not understanding what the younger boy was doing but wanting to be comforting reciprocates with a confident thumbs-up. “Do you want me to get anything for him? I’m pretty sure I saw a ginger-ale in one of the coolers.”

“If it wouldn’t be too much trouble-”

The older black-haired blue-eyed boy snorts playfully at the conciliatory attitude as he tosses the stained hoodie and makes his way out. “Oh come off it, compared to our day job this is nothing.”

It was that statement that appears to rub Jonathan the wrong way as Billy was definitely too young to have a job. When he saw Billy in Mrs. At The Queen's office he thought that maybe his parents were heroes since Tim told him that she was the JLA therapist. Kids can’t be heroes but then he recalls the fact the Young Justice is a thing, and Dick was Robin when he was nine. Okay, Billy was a hero. That doesn’t rub Jonathan the wrong way at all even though his father is right there and doesn’t appear as bothered by that fact.

Oh, so it’s just Jonathan that can’t do anything. Billy can be a superhero, Damian’s brothers can be heroes, and Damian and Colin can go out into Gotham of all places by themselves to do whatever but Jon has to stay home and be a normal boy? Yeah, that’s totally fair Jonathan is perfectly okay and everything is just dandy. Not.

“Jonno, Sport, are you feeling better?”

“I’m fine.” At least he was on a physical level. Emotionally he was all over the place.

Clark frowns at the disdain in his son’s tone and takes his son over to the sink after flushing the toilet. “I’m sorry about that sport. I didn’t see anyone serving you cheese pizza. I should have been paying more attention. I promise it won’t happen again, I’ll be keeping a closer eye on you.”

Urgh, that’s the exact opposite of what Jon wants.

Jonathan’s father washes his face and rinses out his mouth at the sink. Jon meanwhile simply allows himself to be looked over as he’s too lost in thought to do anything himself. He’s eight now so doesn’t that mean he should have more responsibility? The older he gets the more like a baby his parents treat him and he’s not a baby! Jon is a very mature little boy!

“Jon, do you want to wait a bit longer before we serve cake?”

A mature little boy who really wants cake.

“I wanna have cake!” The boy cheers as his dad wipes his mouth with a paper towel. “Cake, cake, cake, cake, cake, cake, cake, cake, cake, cake, cake, cake!”

“Alrighty there, birthday boy, I promise you’ll get your cake, but we need to make sure you’ll be okay. I texted your mom and she says that she’ll be able to break away from her work in an hour so you’ll have to wait till then.” Clark explains calmly to the excitable boy who’s hopping on his toes.

“Awww, you got me excited for nothing…” Jon pouts dejectedly. His father chuckles and pats his head lovingly to comfort him when the door slams open in a forceful manner. A green plastic bottle of ginger-ale is hurled towards Clark’s face at an alarming rate which the man easily catches while gripping his son’s shoulder.

The man sighs and puts a smile on his face. “Hello Damian, what happened to Billy?”

Damian clicks his tongue in annoyance and grimaces. “-Tt- What, disappointed your scullion didn’t come scurrying back at your behest?”

“Damian, that isn’t very nice to say.”

“If you’re going to order a child to take care of Jonathan it might as well be the one promised to him.”

Clark… He did not want to begin opening the can of worms that specific topic will rain down upon him, so he brushes over that. “I’ll be sure to keep that in mind, but I hope Jon won’t have something like this happen again.”

Damian replies in a very Batman-Esque grunt with crossed arms while Jon grabs the bottle from his father’s large hands. “Thanks, Dami!”

“You’re welcome.”

The three of them leave the restroom and head back to the party. As they pass the larger fancier banquet hall Jonathan notices a familiar mop of ridiculously long blonde hair tied in an elaborate braid. Feeling sky blue eyes boring the back of her head the owner of the hair turns around, her black ball gown twirling with her movements. Unnatural neon green eyes glance at him and Lena Luthor the second briefly rubs her diamond decorated collar. The movement only lasted a second before she smiled brightly, and pulled the black silk pant leg of the bald man next to her. The two move further into the crowd of the party away from Jonathan’s narrowing eyesight as his view becomes obscured by the wall.

Jonathan turns to his father who was staring intently at the end of the hall, far from the door to the room Jonathan’s party was happening, at the heavy metal door to the stairs. Notice his son’s gaze intently on him and grins. “What’s up, Sport?”

“What are you looking at?” Jon questions, tilting his head to the left as they enter the venue.

“It’s nothing, don’t worry about it, Sport.” He deflects as he guides Jonathan back to the kid’s table. “Now you go have fun and if you feel ill or need anything just ask.”

“Okay Dad, I will.” Jon nods as he takes back his seat. Once his father is back at his seat and talking with his friends, Jon turns back to the group to see Kathy’s worried face then is bombarded by a flurry of apologies. Jonathan quickly reassures the girl that he’s okay before looking at Dami and Colin due to the proximity of their seating.

He notices Billy and the twins in a different area of the room with the teenagers around what looks to be a karaoke machine. Jonathan doesn’t remember that being there but he guesses someone must have brought it in at some point. He takes a sip of his ginger ale then beams at Kathy in that pure innocent way only Jonathan manages to do.

Kathy blinks at Jonathan for a second before excitedly yanking Jonathan out of his seat and towards the inflatables obstacle course. “Come on Jon! Let’s go play again before cake!”

“I’ll race you there!” Colin shouts as he practically launches out of his seat to follow the two.

“Hey, no fair! We didn’t start at the same time! This does not count!” Damian hollers as he shoves his seatback.

“You snooze, you lose, rich boy!” Kathy teases as she shoves Jonathan inside.

The duo waits in the center of the course for the two older boys to catch up, Kathy jumping lazily between the inflatable punching bags while Jon hits said bag. It only takes a few seconds for them to catch up and Colin raises an eyebrow at them. Kathy scrunches her face at the pale redhead and whispers, “If we sit still the adults will know something is up inside here.”

“Yeah, bouncy houses make it obvious if someone is moving or not,” Jon adds as he whacks the punching bag again. “Plus it makes noise to help cover other sounds.”

“What do you need?” Damian asks, cutting right to the point.

“I need you to get me into that other party. Lena is there and I think she was trying to tell me she knows something about my collar.” The eight-year-old elaborates solemnly. “But everyone will notice if I’m not here since this is my party and my dad is already worried since I got sick.”

“Sorry about that again Jon,” Kathy tells him with a pout.

“I already said it was fine.” He reassures her before looking back at the two other boys. “So I need a way to sneak out.”

“Okay,” Colin claps his palms together before anyone else could start brainstorming ideas. “Before we do anything else, what the fuck are you going to do once you get that collar off? I think everyone will notice if you don’t have it on. Also, is it even a good idea to take it off? Not to be that guy-”

“That’s new.” Damian insults quickly.

“Shut up.” Colin retorts with a huff before continuing. “But the last time you took that thing off you almost froze yourself to death.”

“It’s harder to kill him with his powers,” Damian argues casually although Jon can see the corner of his right eye twitch. “And he shouldn’t have to live in fear of his own powers.”

“Look, I’m not saying he shouldn’t have his powers at all or that his parents are right, but Jon’s decision-making skills are the equivalent to a Fisher-Price See 'n Say.”

“Hey…” Jon pipes in with annoying puffed cheeks. “Can I talk since it’s me you’re talking about?”

“Okay then, what’s your plan?” Colin challenges with his arms crossed expectantly.

Now that he has the metaphorical stage Jonathan opens his mouth to tell him his plan only to come up empty. He… He did not think this through. “I… I dunno.”

“See!” The eldest boy yells triumphantly and disappointingly. “The second that collar comes off Jon is gonna start feeling things and then we’re all fucked! He’s going to accidentally freeze us all or burn the building down with his heat vision or fly into space and suffocate himself!”

“I can breathe in space,” Jon mumbles him, curling into an insecure little ball.

“Cause that makes it better. At least when you float out into the nothingness of space you won’t suffocate to death!”

“Hey! Space has a lot more people going through it so I’m sure someone would come across him! Most travelers are really nice!” Kathy defends as her peachy skin turns a vibrant green. “Besides, I could catch him before he leaves the planet.”

“You can’t protect him from himself forever, and even if you could, I don’t think his family would let you. Hell, I know Damian wouldn’t. If Lena is going to take it off then it should wait until he doesn’t feel emotions like a volcano.”

Damian exhales through his nose harshly and faces his companion with an inquisitive gaze. “You’re not wrong.”

“Dami!” Jon bemoans at the utter betrayal.

“That being said, while being powerless makes Jon, and us by extension, safer it doesn’t mean that repressing it helps matters either. He’ll never get to a point where he can control himself with his powers if he doesn’t have them.” He turns to Jon. “And since I’m informed locking you in a tower away from anything that can hurt you is _apparently_ psychotic-”

“And makes you a Disney villain.” Colin sighs.

“Training yourself to live with your powers is the best way to go about things, but knowing you, you’ll want to do something dangerous with them. Since that’s the case I’m still here to support you and make sure you don’t die.”

Jonathan doesn’t take kindly to that statement but appreciates the sentiment nonetheless. “I’m not going to do something stupid! I’m going to train but I… I don’t know how. I can’t ask my dad or Chris, and Tim said he’d help but-”

“I’ll do it.” Damian immediately interjects at the name of his youngest adoptive sibling. “Now that we got that settled with-”

“It’s not,” Colin calls out, and in retaliation, Damian sighs and hands the child a crisp green bill from his pocket. “Nevermind, it is.”

“Sell out.” He ridicules, rolling his eyes.

“Hey, you’re the one paying.”

“Anyways,” Damian tells Jon confidently “There is no need to brainstorm so intently. Depending on what Luthor truly intends to do we merely need a courier to speak between us. You nor I am able to leave the party without notice due to our status as children of the most important men in this room. It would be advantageous to send the alien or Colin in to see what is required of us before making any hasty deductions seeing as they’re not as notable.”

Grassy green eyes blink unimpressed at the older assassin boy before turning to her friend. “I don’t know what you see in him.”

“I’m gonna be real honest; I just guess half the time and no one has corrected me,” Jon admits, visibly wilting under the harsh emerald glare directed his way. “Dami is tough to understand sometimes, but if you listen between the mean words he makes sense. I’m the birthday boy and Dami is my boyfriend-”

“Fiance”

“So if he’s not here too, they’ll ask me where he is, and I’m a bad liar. Ask Dami!”

Kathy and Colin turn to Damian who is already pinching the bridge of his nose in exasperation at the memory. “Getting him to lie at the family picnic was like pulling out teeth with a single chopstick. From personal experience, the chopstick was less painful.”

“That is… Wow, okay.” Kathy comments rigidly, not knowing what else to say to that.

“I’ll go.” Colin shrugs. “I know what Lena looks like so it shouldn’t be too hard.”

“Are you sure?” Jon asks concerningly. “Last time we talked to her I think she shot you.”

“She shot you too, so that doesn’t matter.”

“Oh yeah…” The little boy gasps as though he honestly forgot that fact.

“Please tell me you don’t simply forget attempts on your life- Who am I kidding, of course, you do.” Damian groans dragging his tan palm over his face. “Look at who you choose to devote your life to.”

Kathy stares at the freckled boy for a couple of seconds without an expression until the redheaded child was visibly uncomfortable. The child fidgets a bit before terse asking, “What?”

The blonde turns her head in the direction of the banquet hall. She stops her bouncing, focusing all of her energy into whatever she was doing before her small body falls over limp on the inflated blue vinyl flooring. Jonathan is about to scream when Kathy’s farm-worked hands slap themselves over his mouth. Her other hand limply taps the sides of her head before moving, falling flat.

The three boys turn to one another with varying looks of confusion when a loud squeal is suddenly heard from the entrance. Before they could investigate, Kathy snaps out of her stupor pointing at the red rubber ceiling of the obstacle course. “You guys think too hard. It’s easier for her to come to us than one of us to come to her.”

“How-” Jonathan begins to ask before remembering his friend’s extraterrestrial origins. “Oh, right, you got mind powers.”

“We had a telepath this entire time!?” Colin shouts sounding both excited and frustrated. “This makes our lives so much easier!”

“Thanks!” Kathy replies with a faltering grin. “I’m not that good at it though. I don’t train my powers. I had to put all my energy into it so I wouldn’t accidentally start speaking to everyone in the room.”

“We should probably meet her out there then.” Damian supplies as he makes his way to the end of the obstacle course. 

Jonathan helps his friend to her feet before quickly following. Once he ungracefully tumbles down the slide Jon turns towards the entrance and is almost blinded by the refracted light ricocheting off a diamond-encrusted headband. The entrance is being blocked by Jonathan’s cousin Kara and his Uncle Ron as they stand between the ornately dressed kindergartner and the rest of the party.

“Wow! This party is so amazing!” She turns with innocent youthful enthusiasm to Uncle Ron who is doing his best not to appear as worried as he is. “Can I come in and play?!”

The man scratches the sides of his coarse charcoal hair and side-eyes Kara before giving the girl a small smile. “Where are your parents, sweetie?”

Lena sways side to side, her tiny arms hitting her poofy princess ball gown, as she emits the aura of a curious child. “My daddy is at the other party with all the boring adults. I saw some kids come in here and wanted to play! Can I please play, mister?”

If Jonathan doesn’t have the image of this girl polluting a giant robot with lasers at him burned into his mind he’d think she was a normal girl. “Hi, Lena!” Jon greets happily, and he is happy to see her previous transgressions aside because they’re over that and she’s trying to help him… he thinks.

“Jonny, this is your party? Why wasn’t I invited? We’re like siblings!” She whines in a high screechy cadence that somehow grates against his eardrums like nails on a chalkboard. Also who the heck is Jonny?

“I… Jonny?”

“Of course silly! I give all of my friends nicknames! Isn’t it cute?” She questions, fluttering her eyelashes. Even though the young heiress is asking a question Jon doesn’t feel as though there was more than one answer.

“Yes?”

“Jonathan, is Lena a friend from school?” His Uncle Ron asks with a raised brow.

Easily Jon nods his head. “Yeah, she’s my friend from school. Can she come to play with us?”

“I see,” The man nods slowly. “Well, I’ll have to ask your parents and Lena’s parents first. Little Miss, can you tell me your dad’s name so I can go over and ask for you?”

Styled blonde hair bobs as Lena delicately curtsy at the adult. “My daddy’s name is Lex Luthor.”

Kara spits out a drink that Jon was pretty sure she wasn’t drinking and chokes on nothing. “I-What?!”

“But you don’t have to trouble yourself, Mister; You can ask Mercy! Isn’t that right Mercy?”

And like a ninja from the shadows, a brunette woman in a grey power suit steps out from behind Lena much to the surprise of everyone. That’s considerably impressive seeing as many of the adults in the room are Justice League members and there was no way Lena’s small six-year-old body would be able to hide the tall woman. “Is Mr. Kent unavailable at the movement?”

Kara blinks at her, thoughts bouncing all over the place as she stares down at the woman she has traded blows with several times in the past with visible hesitation before civilly answering, “He’s… Off doing some stuff with Chris right now, but he’ll be back soon.” She looks back to the rest of the party where several of the adults look at her in anticipation. “It should be fine to let Lena play and I doubt Clark will have a problem with it.”

“Yay! Thank you, pretty miss!” Lena thanks, hugging the startled twenty-two-year-old before walking to where Jon stood. “Jonny is that pizza!? I love pizza! Can I have some? Ooooo! What about the bouncy thingy? What do you want to play?”

Jon has to take a step back because he is extremely confused and needs a moment to process the information he just received. His dad wasn’t here? And he hasn’t seen Chris all day so what was he doing? Also, Lena being so… normal kid-like towards him is kinda scary like when Dami starts calling him endearing names to distract from his true emotions. Red-flags all around.

“Luthor,” Damian says cordially.

“Wayne.” She replies in the same innocent tone she had on the entire time. “What do you want to play? Formals are soooooo boring. I want to do something fun!”

“You want to do something fun?” The billionaire’s son asks with a mischievous twinkle in his eye and a sneer threatening to break through his lips.

“Yeah!”

“Want to try something crazy?” At that, Colin immediately took five large steps back, dragging the girl in pink with him.

“Yeah!”

“Alright.” He turns to Jon calmly. “Habibi, do you remember our second night together?”

Jonathan nods and reaches over to the plastic table to grab a random can of soda. “Is it going to be boys versus girls? Powers versus no-powers? Us versus the world?”

“As tempting as that last one sounds, we can do better than that.” He takes the can from his partner’s fingers and shakes it vigorously before turning to the group singing karaoke. “Hey, Todd! Wonder Woman SUCKS!”

The reaction was immediate. “What did you say you little shi-!” He didn’t get to finish his sentence as Damian throws the aluminum can at the man and punctures it with a knife where it explodes above Jason’s head. “That’s it! I ain’t afraid to throw hands with a ten-year-old!”

“An all-out battle royal is more efficient,” Damian tells Jon as he bends backward to avoid the slice of pizza being flung at him with the precision of a shuriken.

“Damian, you apologize to Jason this minute or so help me, young man, I will-” Dick begins to scold before a snort from Colin stops him in his tracks.

“Okay, Boomer.” The immature teenagers around him begin to jeer at the comment and the eldest Wayne turns to see his little brother’s friend giving him a shit-eating grin. “What? Can’t handle being old?”

Dick turns to Barbra with an incredulous look on his face. “Are you going to let him talk to me like that?”

“What? Can’t fight your own battle?” She teases, rolling her eyes when the younger’s emotions don't let up. “Oh fine. Coli-”

A cookie from the snack table launched into her mouth making her eat her words. An alarmed Kathy with her green skin still visible and hand against her temple shudders before ducking behind said table. “Sorry, I meant to hit the guy next to you!”

The twins, Jai and Irey, grin in excitement as they shout at the same time, “We get to use our powers?!”

The taller red-head who is their father shakes his head vigorously only to be ignored. “No! This is a no-power event!”

It was too late as the speedsters disappeared, moving faster than the naked eye could comprehend, and the next thing Jonathan knows the father is pelted with a vast assortment of foods. “K-kids! Just wait till your mother hears about this!”

“Oh come off it, Uncle Wally.” Bart chuckles as he takes this opportunity to pour an ice-cold drink down the back of Tim’s suit jacket. “It’s just some harmless fun.”

Tim tries to slam a pizza into Bart’s face in retaliation only for the younger to dash out of the way to witness it hit Cassie Sandmark right on the front of her yellow dress. “Oh no.”

“TIM, THIS DRESS WAS EXPENSIVE!” She shouts as she lifts an entire box of pizza off a chair and begins to beat the teen over the head with it. “I’LL KILL YOU!”

“Bruce, shouldn’t we be stopping this?” Wonder Woman questions her friend light-heartedly at the sight of the slowly unfolding chaos before them.

The man in question hums affirmatively while not bothering to move even a single inch. “We should.”

“Are you?”

“Are you?” Bruce questions back accusingly. “Besides, I always wanted to see one of Clark’s events go sideways. It’s not fair it should only be mine that does.”

“You’re horrible.” Diana laughs and takes a long sip of juice from her paper cup before throwing it into the billionaire’s face.

Apparently, that was the cue the mature adults in the room needed to go all out and throw caution to the wind. Food is thrown left and right, tables were overturned, alliances were made, and betrayals were inevitable. It never ceases to amaze Jonathan just how fast things can deteriorate in a room full of super-powered adults. Jon is pretty sure he saw his grandma punch his grandpapa in the face.

Jonathan was stored away in one of the portable coolers by Lena and his fiance and the boy felt himself be rolled away to who knows where. The ride was rather smooth, all things considered, until the cooler stopped and he felt gravity slowly take root around him. A chime of an elevator alerts him to his current location, and Jon boops the top of his head against the textured plastic lid to peek outside.

He didn’t get the chance to see anything as Lena violently slams the lid back down with a vicious glare. “Don’t blow our cover, Kent.”

Ah, there’s the Lena he knows.

“You don’t have to be so mean about it,” Jonathan grumbles with puffy cheeks.

“I’m not taking any chances around you now that I know what that thing on your neck is.” She hisses, catching the boy’s already captive attention.

“Ah, so I take it your father is up to something?” Jon hears Damian accuse in the same tone one would talk about the weather.

“My daddy didn’t make this.” She practically upbraids, striking the top of the cooler enraged at the accusation. “My daddy may hate Superman, but even he’s not so cruel to do what that collar is doing. If my daddy couldn’t do it to Kon, he wouldn’t do it to Kent.”

Unease began to form inside Jonathan as millions of horrible thoughts and ideas began to swirl through his head. He can’t decipher one thought from another as they all meld and rip from one another until he reaches a point he can’t even think anymore. Jonathan.exe is not working; manual reboot required.

“Are you going to tell us what it is or are you going to leave us in suspense?”

Jonathan can’t see it but he can feel Lena roll her eyes. “It’s gold kryptonite.”

“Why does that sound so familiar?” Jon asks himself aloud. It does sound familiar. Jonathan has never quite understood the phrase, “On the tip of my tongue,” before now, but he does indeed physically feel the answer on the tip of his tongue struggling to be let free. He knows that Kryptonite is bad, yet he admittedly isn’t that good at memorizing things. He’s only ever seen green Kryptonite so where would he learn about other colors?

Damian meanwhile has been rather quiet during their trip down as he lets the answer permeate the small space. A chime alerts them to their destination and Jonathan is rolled out on a rough surface that echoes the turning of the plastic wheels carrying him. Once the makeshift vehicle stops the white lid is thrown open and Damian’s hands go around the collar to drag him up. The action shocked Jonathan for a second but he wasn’t worried about being harmed. He’s still preoccupied trying to figure out what gold Kryptonite does.

“Unless you have super strength you’re not going to be able to get that off of him,” Lena mentions condescending.

“There is a radioactive rock stuck to his neck that is draining his powers permanently! I’m going to at least try.” Damian snarls as he attempts to use his arms to pry the metal off of him.

Oh, now Jon remembers. He read about it at the Superman exhibit with Damian!

“That’s stupid.” The girl states dully. “And that’s not the only thing you should be worrying about.”

“Great.” The ten-year-old says sarcastically.

She takes two fingers and presses them against the metal accessory before telling the two, “There is no device locking it; It’s held together by a thick metal latch. The only pieces of technology in this thing is a tiny lightbulb powered by kryptonite and a small tracking device. The kryptonite has been modified but for what purpose, I don’t know.”

“Modified?” Jon blurts out as Lena retracts her hand. “Like fake?”

“It’s not synthetic kryptonite. It’s very real, but someone changed it to do other things. What those things are I cannot tell you because I don’t know.”

“For someone so adamant that your father had nothing to do with this, you sure seemed to have discovered much from him.” Damian attacks, finally releasing his grasp on Jon’s neck.

“Who said I found this information from my father?” Lena scoffs, turning up her nose. “No, I have other sources of information.”

“You want me to believe that the Justice League would willingly and knowingly expose Jonathan to Kryptonite? Why are you being so content when your own brother has one of these things on him.”

“I’m content because I know my little brother doesn’t have one of these on him. I found his collar’s blueprints and if given the chance I could take it off of him at a moment’s notice.” The kindergartener brags haughtily, dusting off her pristine dress. “And I don’t expect you to believe that the Justice League did this to him because it wasn’t them.” She reaches into her dress pocket, something Jonathan didn’t know existed, pulling out a collar that looks exactly like the one on Jonathan’s neck. “This is the real restrictor my daddy made. Notice the much more impressive craftsmanship and dial that controls the level of power allowed to be accessed.”

Sky blue eyes examine the device handed to him and while he doesn’t see much of a difference in craftsmanship he does see that instead of a light there is a tiny blue knob. Other than that it was the exact same. Jon remembers Chris telling him that something like this wouldn’t be available to him until later. Later was beginning to sound like never, but now that Jon sees this collar in his hands he realizes that it was never going to happen. He was going to be stuck in this stupid kryptonite collar forever!

“Okay, so how do I get this off?” Jon asks Lena only to have the six-year-old shrug and wave her off.

“I don’t know and that’s not my problem.” She states matter-of-factly. “I told you all I could find out and what you do with that information no longer involves me. Now, if you two nimrods will excuse me, I am going to find my little brother and have a civil conversation with him.”

Jonathan blinks for a second at the retreating kindergartner then loudly calls out, “Hey wait, Conner is here?”

Lena sighs exaggeratingly and places both hands on her hips. “Of course he’s here. What else could your father be doing right now other than watching you?”

Oh… That makes sense. Why else would he leave his son after saying he’d watch him if it’s not for something as important as looking after his other son. “I want to talk to Conner! Can I come with you?”

“No.” She responds tersely. “Don’t let this favor fool you, Kent. I might not be trying to kill you, but that does not mean we’re on friendly terms.” With that, she heads towards the elevator where Mercy was waiting for her. Was that lady there this entire time? Why hasn’t she said anything?

Huh… That was rude.

Now that the two boys were alone Jonathan is able to focus on his surroundings to find himself in a parking garage much like the one his family arrived from. He doesn’t see his dad’s truck anywhere so it’s not the same one, but that doesn’t matter. He turns towards Damian who is lost in thought about the situation, and Jon tries to reassure him that everything is alright.

“Don’t worry Dami, we can just tell my dad and he’ll take it off!”

Emerald eyes narrow at him, making the boy inch back in the cooler. “So that he can put this-” He snatches the real restrictor from Jonathan’s hold. “--on you instead. You want to give whoever put this on you another chance to make things worse?!”

“Chris, Christopher put this on me.” Jonathan corrects, tracing the rim of the titanium with the tips of his fingers. “Chris said he helped make this. The two collars look the same, but he would notice if something was different. That means he already knew what this was.”

“Proving even more that we cannot trust our family and blood means nothing,” Damian says callously. Jonathan doesn’t know where that line of thinking comes from, but whatever Dami is talking about is something the other boy probably thinks is important. Plus Jon doesn’t get it. “We can’t trust anyone other than ourselves, Jonathan! It’s best to just run away now before anyone else can use us for undisclosed machinations!”

“What?” Okay, now Damian wasn’t making any kind of sense, and even though Jon will be the first to admit Damian can be hard to understand he’s making less sense than usual. “Where would we even go? I don’t want to talk to my mom and dad or Chris, but I think we should. Maybe this is a big misunderstanding. This collar isn’t good, but I don’t think Chris would ever hurt me.”

“You’ve only known that stranger for two months, yet he’s already integrated himself into your family! They’ve been brainwashed! Who knows what that man has the Kryptonian believing!”

“Dami, I don’t think Chris can brainwash people. If he could he wouldn’t be grounded.” At least that’s what Jon would do if he had brainwashing powers. No consequences to his actions sound nice.

“That’s just what he wants you to think!” Damian hollers in a hysterical tone which, wow, that’s new. “You’re too trusting and naive for your own good! We need to leave and get you away from those dastards!”

With that, Damian uses the handle of the cooler to pull him along the asphalt of the parking garage to what Jonathan thinks is the exit. Jon doesn’t want to run away from home, nor does he think he’s prepared. All they have on them are a couple of knives and a six-pack of root beer that’s been freezing Jon’s foot for the last ten minutes. Also, Jon still hasn’t opened any of his birthday presents or eaten any of his cake. He really wants those.

“Dami, wait-” He calls out as they stroll through a less well-lit part of the carport, only to be silenced by another harsh glowing glare… Hold up. “Dami, are you okay?”

“Never been better, now don’t speak, I’m trying to concentrate on an exit strategy.” He answers in a rush. “We’re going to be fine beloved, trust me.”

Forcing down the elated feeling of the nice nickname, Jonathan pouts and tugs on the end of Damian’s black dress-shirt. “Dami, I don’t get it. You’re supposed to be the smart one. Isn’t trying to run away during my birthday party with the Justice League in the same building a bad idea? My collar has a tracking device in it so they’re going to find us.”

“I’ll deal with that later.” He tells Jon, tossing the original collar out of the ledge of the parking garage and into the streets below. That… Why did he do that?

“Uh, no you can’t,” Jon tells him because there is no way a ten-year-old, no matter how skilled, can outmaneuver the entire Justice League.

“Watch me.” He challenges.

Jonathan will take him up on that because something isn’t right with his partner. “I’m watching you, I’m listening to you, and I’m worried.”

The elevator chimes at the beginning of the path behind them and Jonathan turns in the cooler to see Dick and Cassandra run out of the elevators after them. The birthday boy looks to his friend only to see the child not even acknowledge them; it’s as though he couldn’t hear them. 

“Dami?”

“What is it, Jon?” That proves that Damian can still hear Jonathan.

“Dick and Cass are behind us,” Jon says, pointing at the duo who catch up to them.

Damian pauses and looks in the direction the younger is pointing with glazed-over eyes. “What are you talking about? Did you hear something again?”

“Again?” Then Jonathan recalls the last time Jonathan heard something suspicious when no one was behind them. “This isn’t like that time with Roulette, Dami. I can literally see them. I can even touch them.” He pats the thigh of Cassandra’s pizza-stained dress as she walks alongside them, not doing anything for some reason. He then taps the side of Dick’s leg. “See?”

“Jonathan, I don’t have time for games.” He says as he continues pulling Jonathan at his normal speed.

What the heck is happening right now? Jon isn’t crazy, is he? He looks at Dick to see the man with a sad expression as he reaches into the pocket of his slacks, and takes out a bright orange pill bottle. “What’s that?”

Dick doesn’t answer him as he tilts his head at Cass. The teenage girl shoots forward at Damian, picking him up off the ground causing the boy to squirm around like an angry cat. He claws and kicks in the girl’s direction but fails to hit her as it appears as though he doesn’t know where she is. She’s touching him so how does he not know where his sister is?

“Jon, can you hand me a drink please?” The eldest Wayne asks politely and Jonathan absentmindedly hands over a can of soda. “Thank you.” He walks towards the Damian struggling kid with a sigh muttering, “This is why you don’t skip taking your medication.”

Damian says a series of mismatched sentences until the sound becomes intangible. “Who’s there?! Let go of me if you want to keep your life! Jonathan run!”

In one quick motion, the man takes two of the pills and forces them down the child’s throat. The boy viciously bites down on the fingers in his mouth, blood pouring out of the corners of his lips staining them red. Once Richard sees his little brother swallow the medicine he opens the soda with his non-bloody hand and tilts the boy’s head back to feed the liquid down this throat.

“What have you done to me!? I’ll kill you! I’ll kill you all!” Damian screams, trying to induce vomiting.

“Cass, do it.”

With a single finger, the girl hits several places on Damian’s body causing the boy to go limp. At first, Jonathan thinks she knocked him out, but upon further inspection, Damian’s eyes are still open and his glowing irises are moving frantically around. She places the boy next to Jon, exchanging him for the pack of soda inside. It’s a good thing this is a huge cooler or else Jon would feel cramped.

The limp Damian appears scared and twitches occasionally as though he doesn’t recognize anything or anyone besides Jonathan. The fifth-grader’s lips try to move to speak, yet nothing comes out as if they had no feeling. Jon places his hand inside Damian’s twitching digits and that action thankfully calms him down a bit.

“I’m sorry you had to see that Jon.” Dick apologizes as Cassandra takes hold of the cooler handle and begins pulling the two back inside.

“What’s wrong with, Dami? What did you do to him?” Jon asks, pointing at the bright orange bottle.

“Uh… Well… Do you remember back on Infinity Island, Damian’s old home? There’s this special type of water-”

“The green Kool-Aid.” Jonathan supplies stoically causing the man to balk at his response.

“I’m sorry, the what?”

“The green Kool-Aid.” Jon reiterates. “I remember seeing a lot of it on that island. It’s supposed to do lots of bad stuff.”

“Please tell me you didn’t drink any.” Dick begs him as they get inside the elevator.

That’s easy. “I didn’t drink any. I only drank the magic water that made me young for a few hours. You’d think the magic fountain of youth water would last longer but after Dami’s mom attacked me-”

“I’m sorry, what?”

“And I passed out or died or whatever, I woke up normal again. They need a new name for it, but it can’t be me who names it because Dami says I’m bad at naming things.” Jon finishes his mini-rambling before remembering what he was trying to say. “Oh, right, so the green Kool-Aid is supposed to make Dami lose his mind or something so that old guy could be inside him-”

“OKAY,” Dick shouts, covering Jon’s mouth with his clean hand. “Yes, that. But also, you are not allowed to explain these things anymore.”

Why do people keep saying that?

“Anyways, the… The green kool-aid is bad and makes him see and hear things differently than we do. This medicine is supposed to help Damian get the stuff out of his body slowly.” Dick explains.

“Why can’t you get it out faster?” Jon asks as though it was simply because it sounds like an easy thing to do to his eight-year-old mind.

“It doesn’t work like that,” Dick reveals. “Damian had it in him for a long time, so we don’t know what would happen if we take it out all at once. It might hurt him.”

“Oh,” Jon says because that’s all he can say. “Why did he skip his medicine?”

The man purses his lips and pats the top of Damian’s head. “I don’t know for sure, but I think he didn’t want to take his medicine for your party.”

“Why not? I wouldn’t make fun of him for needing medicine.”

Richard smiles at that statement and moves his hand to the top of Jonathan’s fluffy hair. “Sometimes the medicine makes him sleepy and dizzy. I don’t think he wanted to miss your party because he was tired.”

“Oh.” Jonathan looks back at Damian to see that the boy is now sleeping. “It’s alright. He can take a nap. I’ll make sure to save him some cake. At Dami’s birthday party, we ruined the cake and he didn’t get any.”

“That’s very nice of you, Jonathan. You’re very lucky it’s your birthday or else you and Dami would be in a lot of trouble for starting a food fight.”

Jon pouts. “I’m sorry, I won’t do it again.”

“That’s good of you.” He says as the doors open to reveal Jon’s Dad with a slice of pepperoni pizza on his shoulder and Chris behind him with his arms crossed.

“Hey Uncle Clark, I got the kids,” Dick reveals, gesturing to the cooler. “They were in the parking garage rolling around in this thing.”

A thought came to Jonathan at that very moment. “Do you think this cooler could work as a wagon? If we found a hill we would roll down it like that time with the wagon!”

Jon’s father sighs and takes the handle from Cassandra. “Thank you, Dick, Cass, for getting the boys back. I’ll have a talk with Jon when we get home after cake and presents.”

“Anytime,” Dick says as the group heads back to the party.

Part of the way there, Lois leaves the banquet hall and spots them, quirking a brow. “I thought it would take at least another hour before something like this happened.” She jokes, taking the slice of pizza on her husband’s shoulder and taking a bite. “Who won?”

“No one won, Lois.”

“Ah, so you lost. Got it.”

“I didn’t participate. The boys decided to pull a disappearing act part of the way through and we had to get them.” Clark elaborates. “It looks like Jonathan and Damian decided to use one of the drink coolers as a makeshift wagon.”

“Jon, you’re supposed to stay in the room.” Lois scolds, poking the boy between the eyes. “Although it looks like you somehow worked Damian to exhaustion. Impressive.”

Richard doesn’t correct her and the group makes their way inside the party room to witness some of the adults clean the room while everyone else sets up the present and cake tables that were surprisingly untouched. Jon looks at the table where the cake is supposed to see and notices that there was no cake to be seen.

He doesn’t question it as he’s sat down between Kathy and Colin at the head of the table. Richard tries to pry Jonathan’s hand from Damian’s to no avail and resigns himself to standing next to the birthday boy while he holds his sleeping brother in his arms.

Conner, in his Superhero outfit, slides by next to Kathy with a cheeky grin. “Heya Jonno, what up?”

“Conner!” Jon cheers, awkwardly trying to use one arm to give the teenager a side hug. “Conner, how come you didn’t come earlier? Were you busy?”

Sheepishly, the teen rubs the back of his head with a sigh. “I- Oh ya know, I was busy.”

“Yeah, I had to practically drag him out of Mount Justice and up the stairs to get him here.” Chris teases, flicking the side of the younger teen’s head.

“Did you talk to Lena?” Jon questions and immediately feels the male tense up over the name.

“O-Oh… Lena? Y-yeah, we chatted for a bit. Um… It was good.” That is the most obvious lie Jonathan has ever heard and that’s saying a lot. “I also talked to my Dad for a bit. That was… a thing.”

“Does this mean you’re going to come home now? Your bed is taking up space in my room.”

“Jon.” His father chides him with a shake of the head.

“Uh, let’s put a pin on that for later.” He ruffles Jonathan’s hair lovingly before settling back in his seat.

But Jon does not want to put a pin in that; Pins hurt.

His mother ushers in two waiters into the room as they carry in a large sheet cake with a picture of the superman logo decorated on the front. It was much bigger than the cake Jon had years prior, but that party had more people than he’s used to so it made sense. They put the large cake down in front of the boy before leaving and Jonathan’s eyes sparkle in delight at the sight of the pastry.

He looks around him with a huge excited grin at the people smiling at him. Everyone began singing Happy Birthday to him as the light dimmed. Scanning the room he watches what should be a joyous moment become ruined by that mean voice in his head telling him that no one here is happy. That Jon shouldn’t be happy. The elated feeling is dismissed at seeing the unhappy people smile back at him.

Conner most likely didn’t want to be here because he doesn’t want to be a part of his family.

Christopher, although he’s an enigma to Jon and might be hurting him, doesn’t have a life outside of his little brother.

His parents always try to show him that everything is okay, but he bets that they would rather he be normal. They would be happier if he was normal.

Kathy is still his friend and he thinks everything is normal between them, but there’s always the knowledge of their past looming over them.

Colin, poor Colin. Jon wasn’t the cause of his pain, but he doesn’t make it easier on the poor boy.

Tim… Just… Jon doesn’t know what he did but some of his problems are certainly Jon’s fault not only in one world but two.

And then there’s Damian, passed out next to him. Jonathan doesn’t even know where to start. He would like to say that Dami’s life is better with him in it, but in many ways, it might be worse. Things may not have escalated so quickly if it wasn’t for Jon’s involvement. Jon also doesn’t know if Damian actually loves him or just feels indebted to him. Why is life hard?

“Jon, what’s wrong?” His mother asks in concern while eight red and blue candles flicker.

“I dunno.” He says because he doesn’t know. There are too many things wrong.

“Maybe you could wish whatever it is better.” Colin quips, pointing at the cake.

Kathy bounces in her seat excitedly. “Make a wish Jon, then we can eat cake!”

Jon doubts wishing candles will do anything, but maybe it will make him feel better, but what should he wish for? There is so much he wants and he doubts he can wish for more wishes. “What should I wish for?”

“I dunno.” Kathy shrugs.

Kara walks up behind him, Conner leaning away as he’s still wary of the woman, and holds his shoulders. “Well, whatever you wish for, you can’t tell anyone or else it won’t come true.”

Jon stares at the fire intensely before feeling the fingers around his left hand be squeezed by the unconscious Damian. Like that, Jon knows what to wish for. The eight-year-old leans up on the table, using one arm to brace himself, and examines the flames. With a deep breath, Jonathan blows out the candles with only his one wish in mind. Jon's life might be complicated, but there's one way to fix a lot of the problems that plague his and Dami's life.

_“I wish we could live in a world where kids like us can be free without adults telling us what to do.”_

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


**“If tHat’S WhAt yoU wANt, tHen it sHaLL bE!”**

Oh No.

"I take it back, I take it back!" Jonathan shouts as the people in the room disappear before his entire world fades to black.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WELP -cracks knuckles- I am back and I am back with a vengeance. Prepare for trouble and make it double. 
> 
> So much is happening and is going to happen. I love foreshadowing but I hate writing it, but it pays off so well once I get there. These are the struggles I have people! Anyway, I would like to take this time to thank everyone for reading and point out that the predicted word count of his fic is projected to be longer than the entire twilight series. I have to live with that knowledge and now I must bestow it onto y'all.
> 
> THE STORY!
> 
> So... Damian is still having backlashes from the Lazarus pit, cause that definitely wasn't going away after one use.
> 
> Lena is kinda an ally but she's not a friendly one.
> 
> Colin is still 100% here for it and wants to get off the ride at the same time.
> 
> Kathy is just vibing.
> 
> Chris... You'll see.
> 
> And more but I'm not here to recap the thing you just read. I like to hear your thoughts if you'll let me after so long 🤣LMAO! Next Chapter... You know what, I think that ending speaks for itself.


	46. Weeknights @6PM CST For KIDS!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Join Jonathan Samuel Kent and friends as he goes on exciting adventures and fights crime. Along the way, he'll learn important life lessons and have fun doing so with the support of viewers like you! Thank you!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the most I will ever draw for one chapter. My hand hurts, but the inspiration was too strong. Fun fact about me y'all might have guessed: I used to do Graphic Design, more specifically Logo Design. I don't do that anymore cause I hated it, and I was better at character design. (Not my actual career, just something I do for fun). This was a fun throwback to something I used to do all the time even if it's not as good as I'd like it to be. I'm proud of my work. Anyways, a new chapter and new storyline! I hope that you're all ready for this cause we're now officially in the final story arc of this fice (Still gonna be long as fuck). Thank you for reading and I hope you enjoy it!

The sun always shines over Metropolis, reflecting the positive joyous attitudes of the people who live in the heavenly city. Crisp clean skyscrapers cut through the clouds, and pristine railroads keep the roads relatively traffic-free. The shiny city streets were ringing with the early morning hustle and bustle of metropolitans on the commute to work or school. City folk has a tendency to not look where they’re going as they were too occupied multitasking. In the States, time is money and time can’t be bought. It’s not right to bite more than a person can chew, so the people were lucky that Superboy was on the job to help as many people as he can before school.

Patiently, Jonathan waits at the crosswalk for the open palm to transform into a stick-figure as he holds the groceries for the friendly elderly lady next to him. The second the light changes the eight-year-old boy lends an arm for the woman so that she can use him as leverage seeing as her cane is broken. They make it to the other side without any fuss and he helps the woman to her destination.

“Thank you very much, Superboy.” She speaks to him with a small smile. “Is there anything I can do for you in return?”

Jon wildly shakes his head with an excitable grin and bounces back and forth on his heel. “No thank you, mam! I just want you to have a wonderful day!”

The lady openly melts at the Kryptonian’s unabashed kindness, putting her hand on over her heart. “You’re such a sweet little boy. I can’t let you go unrewarded.”

She takes most of the bags from Jonathan’s fingers, leaving behind the two smallest in his hands. Jonathan looks in the bags to find several honeybuns and moon pies. “Mam, I can’t possibly take these; I don’t do this for a reward.” The boy tries to give the items back only to be met with a stern look only rivaled by one Ma Kent.

“Don’t be so stubborn, Superboy. Just take the sweets and be on your way.” Before Jon could try again to hand the food back, the woman already headed inside the apartment building.

Sky blue eyes matching the horizon of the azure above him stare guiltily at the treats in his hands. He has half a mind to follow the woman inside, yet the rumblings in his tummy and the ticking of time win him over. Superboy may have lost this battle, but it shan’t happen again! He turns on the heel of his sneakers to head back the way he came so that he may get to school on time.

Jonathan has half an hour to get to class!

He wishes that he could fly like his dad, or could use his super strength without fear of damaging the pavement below him. Destruction of public priority is serious business! That’s why Superman always stays behind after a big fight to help clean up.

Sneakily, Jonathan heads to an isolated back alley where no one could possibly see him change out of his costume and into his school uniform. The second-grader opens the lid to a metal trash can to grab his Superman backpack and stuff his jacket and jeans inside. He finds that he doesn’t have enough room to stash all of the pastries in the bag so he settles on simply carrying them as he was.

“Ahem.” Someone rather bluntly fake coughs from behind him.

This action causes Jon to stumble backward in shock and the loose ties around his neck tighten in his hands as he falls. A hand on the small of his back saves him from tumbling on the hard brick pavement below as he looks up to meet stunning emerald color eyes that glow when looked at from the right angle. Gods, Jonathan could look in those eyes forever, which he fully intends to do.

Life, unfortunately, has other plans for him. He’s unceremoniously dropped when he takes too long to try to stand on his own, something he didn’t even try, and Jon hits the ground on his tailbone. “Oof!”

“-Tt- Don’t be dramatic, you have invincibility.” The other’s voice scoffs at Jon’s stupidity. “Why are you leaving yourself vulnerable in such an open space? Do you want your secret identity to be discovered?”

With a pout, Jonathan sits up in annoyance, crossing his arms. “It’s not like anyone is going to come here, Dami. Besides, the only person I see here is you and you already know I’m Superboy.”

“That’s only because you have insane luck. Now get off the floor, you’re better than dirt.” Damian commands, tapping his foot impatiently.

Quickly, Jonathan gets up with a grin and goes to hug his friend. “Aw, that’s so nice of you to say!”

His affections were promptly deflected and Jonathan finds himself attempting to embrace air. Frowning at the injustice he looks to find Damian leering at him with a smug smirk. “You’re going to have to try harder than that, Jonathan.”

The hybrid brushes off some invisible dirt from his clothes as well his hurt feeling but doesn’t dwell on it for long like most things. “Just you wait! Imma come outta nowhere and hug you!”

“I dread the day you develop the skills to catch me unawares.” The fifth-grader replies, standing uncomfortably close to Jonathan to tie the black silk around his neck properly. “We need to get to class before we’re late again and raise suspicions.”

“You’re the one making me late!” Jonathan accuses playfully as he savors the feeling of his best friend’s fingers so close to him. Habitually, the boy rubs the skin of his neck noting how light he feels. It’s an odd thing to note, but his school uniform is weird that it requires a tie. He simply assumes he’s not used to the feeling yet even though they’re more than halfway through the school year already.

The nimble fingers leave his vicinity and Jonathan laments the loss. “Now is not the time to play the blame game, we need to get going.”

Jonathan watches his friend’s retreating figure and can’t help but note the barely visible note of defined muscles underneath the Egyptian blue blazer of their uniforms. It should be illegal to be that pretty. Suddenly, the eight-year-old slaps himself out of his stupor and rushes to catch up to his friend. He can’t help but note how he’s getting more distracted the more time he spends with Dami. Maybe he’ll get to tell the boy how he feels soon, but it might just be the season getting to him.

After all, it was Valentine’s Day.

Walking to their class, Jonathan talks to Damian about anything and everything he could in an attempt to stretch out their time together. Sadly there was nothing he could say to his friend that would make the passing period last longer. The two of them went their separate ways and Jonathan heads to his desk with a long melodramatic sigh. He dejectedly peers into his bag to see the Valentine he prepared for Damian untouched.

“Happy Valentine’s Day, Jon!” Georgia greats, handing the boy a generic store-bought card with a cheap red lollipop taped to it.

“Hey, Georgia,” Jon returns with a smile, pushing up his red-rimmed glasses. He realizes that he was so focused on making Damian’s Valentine he neglected to make any for the rest of his class! Hurriedly, the little boy reaches into one of the plastic grocery bags to give the girl a moon pie. “Happy Valentine’s Day!”

“Wow, a moon pie! Thanks, Jon!”

Jon sure is lucky he didn’t have the chance to give the sweets back to the kind woman from earlier. He takes two more chocolate covered pastries and places them on the table of his other tablemates who have yet to show up. Then he unwraps a honey bun and devourers it readily. Although he already had breakfast, Jonathan is still hungry especially after helping people around the city all morning.

Eventually, Mrs. Miller enters the classroom the same time the school bell rings to see that over half the class has yet to show up. Startled by the sight, she turns to the remaining students and asks, “Did something happen?” The children give one another a curious expression before unanimously shrugging. “I hope it’s nothing serious. I know it’s a holiday, but that doesn’t mean we have nothing to study.”

Jonathan is getting a familiar suspicious feeling in his gut and his mom always tells him to trust his gut. A reporter’s gut is never wrong… Unless it is, then he can blame his editor. He’s not sure where he was going with this saying, but Jon’s already in too deep to change it now. Although, now that he thinks about it, Jon doesn't recall his mom ever telling him that? Who did he learn to trust his gut from? Oh well!

The class goes by at a snail’s pace as they slow their pace in case anyone comes in late to explain what might be going on, yet no one does. The treats Jonathan placed on his tablemate’s desks are left untouched and by the time lunch rolls around no one else has shown up. Their teacher is appearing more concerned by the turn of events and hurriedly escorts the students to the cafeteria. Jonathan notices that it’s not only his class that’s missing half of their people. He’s never seen the lunch lines so short in his life, and a nasty part of him is glad he doesn’t have to wait for his food. The rest of Jon is incredibly worried.

Mrs. Miller rushes out of the building, most likely to try and get to the bottom of this mystery as the lunchroom monitors take care of the children. Jonathan gets his food, a slice of cheese pizza, a carton of whole milk, and some smiley fries before going to his and Dami’s usual lunch table on the balcony.

Damian, always one to pack his own lunch, is unsurprisingly already at the table before him. He sits across from him and waits for a few seconds to ask about their missing companion. “Where’s Colin?”

Putting the silver fork he was using back in his salad, Damian scowls at the younger boy. “Oh, I’m fine. How are you doing?”

Jon winces at the offending nature of his voice. “Sorry. Hey Dami, how are you?”

“Honestly, I’m doing great.” He tells him with a monotone. “I got several Valentines, which was annoying, but seeing as most of my annoying classmates have seemingly vanished I find it balances out.”

“That’s not good.” The little boy states as his tanned skin friend go back to eating his meal. “Have you seen Colin today, or is he missing too?”

“He’s not missing, Wilkes said he wanted to stay home.”

Large eyes widen in shock. “Colin is playing hooky?!”

Narrow emerald eyes narrow at him. “I’m never going to get used to this American slang, am I?” He mutters to himself before speaking in a louder cadence. “If you’re asking whether or not Wilke’s purposefully missed school, then yes. In my opinion, he didn’t miss much education-wise.”

The two continue to sit in comfortable silence, yet Jon can feel the Valentine he made for Damian burn a hole in his backpack. Unable to take the unneeded stress anymore, the younger quickly yanks it out of his bag and hands it to Damian along with a honey bun. The ten-year-old blinks at the objects as though they personally cursed out his entire bloodline.

“What’s this?” He asks as if he suddenly lost his vision and couldn’t comprehend what was being shown to him.

A high and hot blush envelopes Jonathan’s entire body as he averts his eyes from the beautiful face. “I… It’s a Valentine. I-I know you find them annoying, but I wanted to give you something. I did- don’t think too much about it. I just like giving things to people!”

What used to be comfortable silence is now an awkward weight that is crushing Jonathan’s lungs the longer it permeates between them. Jon is about to retract his statement and has half a mind to just stuff the card in his mouth to brush it off as a joke when Dami takes it from him. He inspects the insides of the construction paper with blue hearts glued all over it with a teasing glint in his eyes. Without looking away from the message Jonathan wrote, some incoherent ramblings about friendship, he reaches into his leather satchel to pull out a bright red pen. He writes some stuff into the card before handing it back to him.

All over the paper are corrections about his grammar and suggestions of more favorable word choices other than the word, “like” a dozen times. There’s even a grade at the top right-hand corner. Jon got a 71% on his own Valentine’s card. He doesn’t know whether to be outraged he got graded or grateful it was passing.

“You didn’t have to be so mean about it.” Jonathan pouts as he reaches to take the card back.

Damian retracts his hand and places the handmade card into his schoolbag. “I’m not rejecting it. I gave you a passing grade, so it’s good enough for me not to throw it away.”

“What did all your other Valentines get?” Jon questions apprehensively as he leans forward to peek inside the satchel.

“I failed them by a shameful margin. Now they reside in the trash.” Dami informs him and Jonathan couldn’t help but feel extremely elated. The boy he likes kept his card! He’s so happy that Jon could die happy. “Now, I think it’s time we address the issue of the missing school population.”

Oh, right. That was a thing.

“I’ve also noticed that much of the staff is also missing but it hasn’t been brought up to attention until the time school started. This signifies that it was abrupt and couldn’t have happened earlier in the day. Either the education system is more defective than I previously assumed it to be, or something mischievous is afoot.”

Jon nods along like he knows what Damian is talking about. It’s best to let Dami solve all the mysteries while Jonathan is the one that gets to punch stuff. While listening to his friend’s planning he leisurely takes a sip of milk to wash down his fries. He doesn’t know why but milk stopped talking like anything to him for some reason. Maybe the school’s milk is simply bland compared to the freshly made kind they have in Hamilton. Jon makes a note to ask Kathy about it when he sees her this weekend for their playdate.

“And that is why we must act now! Come along Jonathan, and bring your belongings.” Damian instructs, standing from his seat, already packed-up.

Surprised by the spontaneous action, Jonathan hurries to gather himself and almost trips over his feet to stay next to his best friend. They sneak out the side of the building, an action Jon shamefully has done before, and leave the school grounds to the Metropolis pier.

To normal eyes, this area is a normal port area for boats, but not for Jonathan and Damian! Behind an abandoned building the two enter a false wall where a small pod awaits their arrival. The two boys forcibly stuff themselves inside lamenting the lack of space. Don’t get Jon wrong, he likes being close to Dami, but he doesn’t want his elbow jabbing his cheek or his knee in Jon’s rib. Their dads should have built this thing to fit two children instead of one adult.

The vehicle launches through the ocean until they get to their destination; The Fortress of Attitude. It was a high-tech underwater headquarters outfitted with the latest and greatest equipment for crime-fighting. Their parents made it for them when they began their careers as heroes so that they can do their jobs better.

Jonathan and Damian pry themselves out of the tiny pod when they land inside their base and move to the changing area to safely get into costume. The half-Kryptonian didn’t think that he had to change twice in one day, but this was most likely going to be an exciting adventure. They’ll fight the bad guy, save the day, and go home learning a lesson about friendship like they do every day.

That’s oversimplifying what they do, but Jon doesn’t like thinking about complicated things.

Damian is already changed into his Robin uniform and is at the computer doing whatever it is Dami does. Jon doesn’t know, he isn’t the detective of the two of them. Truthfully, he’s just glad to be included and his Dad says there’s nothing wrong with that. Superboy kicks his legs against the workbench next to the computer as he thinks happy thoughts when a call comes in from the computer. Fearfully, Jonathan thinks it’s his mother asking why he’s skipping school but is relieved to see it’s just one of Dami’s older brothers, Tim.

“Drake, get off my monitor, I’m working.” Damian hisses, trying to remove the man from the Fortress’ system. Regrettably, Timothy is a far better hacker than Damian. That’s all Jon knows of the teen, he’s never needed to get to know Dami’s siblings any better. All he knows is that Dick is the nice one, Jason is the tough one, Cass is the cool one, and Tim is the smart one. That’s all he needs to know because that’s all they are.

Tiredly, the older teen rubs the dark circles in his eyes, carefully watching the two boys, and is obviously disappointed by something. The male fixes his fancy business suit and sighs despondently. “Damian, you’re supposed to be in school.”

“We’re on important official business! Stop interrupting us!” Robin practically growls as he almost pounds the keyboard.

“Why do I even try; it’s not like you could actually get hurt?” The teen groans as he sluggishly swivels on his plush desk chair in his office.

The fifth-grader puffs his chest out in pride at the supposed compliment. “It’s about time you acknowledge my skills. I’m not so immature as to allow gauche heathens to injure me.”

“I’m talking about the fact that your world seemingly works on kid-show logic, but whatever floats your boat.” Tim groans.

“You can tell Richard to save the recording for later. We have no time for such childish activities, right Jonathan?” Damian inquiries, turning to the child who is now for some reason hanging upside down.

What show is Dami talking about? Tim didn’t mention Dick once in this conversation. “What are you talking about Dami? Tim was talking about boats.”

“See, Jonathan agrees with me.” The older boy continues, looking back to his brother.

Jon didn’t say anything that implies that. “Dami? Are you okay? Are you hearing things like one time on my birthday? Do I need to call Dick to get you your medication?”

Royal blue eyes blink at Jonathan’s words and the teen nearly breaks his office monitor as he desperately holds the screen. “Jon!? You can understand me!? You can listen to the words I’m saying!?”

“Tim, you’re literally saying words that I can hear; That’s how talking is supposed to work.” The youngest replies in a tone that makes it obvious he thinks the teen has lost a few marbles.

“Jonathan, Chickadee, I need to make sure! You must repeat after me!” He haggard teenager begs desperately. “We’re stuck in an interdimensional hellscape that’s forcing us to live out some uncanny TV show!”

That’s weird and oddly specific but if a big kid is asking Jon to do something he guesses he has no choice. “We’re stuck in an inner-dish-mental heck-scape that’s making us live out some canned TV show.”

“Close enough!” Tim cheers rather victoriously, pumping his fist into the air. “Day 49 is a success! Quick, I need you to snap out of it! This world isn’t real! We’re all trapped and you have to remember the real world!”

“We could have done without your input, Drake.” Damian grumbles, glaring at the screen. “We’ll look into this Control Freak character, but if nothing comes of it I’m telling Father to demote you.”

“Jonathan, if there is even a small part of you that understands what I’m saying then you have to fight it! I don’t know how I did it, but you have to find a way to break free!”

“Stop your yammering, bench warmer.” The younger Wayne scoffs, turning up his nose. “Just sit your poor frail self on that CEO chair and once I have proven myself, I’ll take my rightful place as father’s true heir.”

“You’re lucky I’m not over there, or else I’d come over and throttle you myself you demonic Hellspawn-”

Damian finally manages to hang up on his annoying younger-older brother and turns to Jon. “I hate him, but he’s useful for some simple information gathering. I bet if he didn’t interrupt us, I could have found all this out on my own and then some.”

Jonathan blinks out of his stupor as he tries to process what he was just told. In all honesty, he’s extremely confused. For some reason, he’s having an extremely hard time trying to retain the information Tim gave him. Jon knows he’s not the best student, but it was like a dream; He remembers some of it but it’s fading faster than he can recall. The short-lived feeling of unease dissipates and instead of the desperate call to action that he vaguely remembers he instead is filled with a boring exposition dump.

“But how are we ever going to find the villain, Dami?”

“-Tt- Names.” The boy nags, flicking Jonathan between the eyes. “And it’s obvious. This television based neanderthal has taken half the population hostage this morning. That means all we have to do is look for an early morning program that most people are most likely to tune into.”

“Wow Robin, you’re so smart!” Jonathan reverences with passion.

The older boy practically preens under the compliment and saunters off to the living area. “I know I am. Come along Jonathan, if we’re going to catch this scoundrel, we must make haste.”

Gleefully, instead of immediately following his best friend’s heels, Jon instead goes to the kitchenette to make some microwave popcorn. If they’re going to watch TV to catch a villain they’ll need snacks. Jonathan stares blankly at the microwave, anticipating for the moment his popcorn is ready. He likes to wait until the last second to open the door but not after it tells him it’s done. He doesn’t like the loud beeping noise because it hurts his ears especially since he got his super hearing.

Sometimes he wishes he could control his powers better so he wouldn’t have to listen to everything all the time. Jon has trouble focusing on things already and noises distract him. Then again, he’s lucky that his super-hearing isn’t advanced enough to hear the entire world. Jon wouldn’t know what to do if he were forced to do that all the time.

Precisely at the one-second mark on the timer, Jonathan quickly presses the button that opens the microwave and takes out the steaming hot bag of delicious popcorn! He blows on the hot food before taking the brown paper bag into the living room with him. He doesn’t see Damian in there, yet the TV is on. Jon thinks that Damian had to go to the bathroom and sits on the couch to wait.

Jon looks at the screen aimlessly and not paying attention to the background. He’s merely watching commercials and not caring about the products displayed. Jon doesn’t have any money, so it’s not like he could buy anything. He’s about to change the channel when the news comes on and chooses to see if they’ll say anything about the sudden disappearances.

Oddly enough, all he sees on-screen is an empty city street. The graphics on the edges tell him that he’s watching the news but no news anchor is telling him what’s going on. Weird, maybe they’re all on a break.

It was then that he saw a figure on the screen coming out of a bank with bags full of money. It was a portly man who looks to be in his mid-twenties and was in desperate need of a haircut. The man moved to the next building, a jewelry store, breaking the window and taking all of the gems. Before Jon could comprehend the severity of what was going on he used a device to disappear into the television set of a television at a different store.

Well… That was convenient.

Jonathan may not be a master detective but even he could deduce that this was the cause for the sudden disappearances. Control Freak wants to get rid of people so that he can go out into the world and do whatever he wants; It’s the perfect crime! That also meant that Dami is most likely not in the bathroom.

…

Oh no.

HIS BESTIE HAS BEEN KIDNAPPED!

With the determination of a thousand suns, Jonathan leaps from the couch, spilling popcorn everywhere, and runs into the television. Instead of going through the TV as he expected, the eight-year-old instead smashes the set into a million pieces with the force of his tiny child body. Sky blue eyes stare at the broken technology in dismay and nearly cries at the loss. He just destroyed his chance to save his friend and now he’s useless!

“Why am I still never enough? With all these powers I can’t even save the people I care about the most!” He shouts in frustration, stomping the shattered plastic into dust. “I just keep causing more problems! Why can’t I do anything right!?” Why can’t he do anything right for once in his life? Why does Jonathan have to simply be a problem to be fixed, a thing to be protected, an accessory to his own life?! He wants out-

He stands in the Fortress of Additude’s living room, expressionless. What was he just thinking about? The second-grader looks down at the broken remains of the television with confusion and picks up a shard of glass. Why… Oh yeah, he tried to jump into the TV. That was dumb. This is why he’s not the planner between him and Damian.

Welp, no use in crying about spilled milk! He needs to save the people and his best friend! Jon needs to find another TV to get kidnapped into. The little hero doesn’t know what channel Damian was on so the next best thing is to try every channel until something works! There can’t be that many channels, right?

With renewed vigor, Superboy rushes to the pod room and jumps into the one that will take him to his house! Jon wishes he had access to teleporters but those are big-kid toys. Jon would never be allowed to have one of those. That’s what his mom and dad tell him when he asked… Wait, when was the last time he saw his parents? He must’ve seen them this morning before school, right? Who else would have given him lunch money? Now he remembers, he did see his parents off before work. Man, he must have hit his head hard on that television.

He gets in the underwater transportation pod and presses the big red button that will take him home. It’s a bit lonely going through the path alone seeing as he’s only been inside with Damian, but the added space is nice. Lonely... 

Jonathan isn’t that lonely, right?

Jonathan Samuel Kent can’t be lonely! He has so many friends and the support of his family! There Damian, Kathy, Colin, his parents, and-... Wait… There should be more people. What about all his friends in Hamilton who aren’t Kathy? Why can’t he name them as friends? Plus, his family should be bigger than just his parents. Sure there are his grandparents and other relatives but there should be more immediate family.

Why doesn’t he feel content?

No… That’s just silly! Even if he can’t name all of them right now (Probably due to stress) he would never feel lonely with the ones he can name! They’re all his friends and would always help him! Jonathan has so many wonderful friends, and with the power of his friendships, he can do anything! 

Once he’s out of his pod he runs to a covered part of the transportation space to unveil a bright red motorcycle! Dami’s Robin cycle is so cool and he wouldn’t dare let Jonathan ever touch it since he couldn’t drive, but this is an emergency! He needs to get to a TV and get there fast!

With skill Jonathan absolutely doesn’t have, he starts the vehicle and speeds off into the empty streets of Metropolis. It was a vast contrast to the bustling cityscape he saw this very morning, but he knows when he’s done defeating the villain everything will be back to normal until the next time something like this happens. That’s just how the cycle of superheroes goes. It’s all one big cycle.

That’s what Jason told him! … Weird, Jon doesn’t remember the conversation they talked about, but the man must have said it to the child. How else would Jonathan remember it?

The ride to Superboy’s newest destination was shaky at best. Jonathan has never driven a motorcycle by himself, yet he manages not to crash. It’s great that there weren’t any cars on the road because it would make driving out of the city harder to do! He drives for a few hours, yet everything feels like it only lasts a couple of minutes at most. It’s just like his Dad tells him, “Time flies when you’re having fun!” What could be more fun than saving the day?

Jonathan clumsily hops off the motorcycle, hiding the bike in the tall grass of Kathy’s front yard. He skips over to the back where he’s most likely to find his blonde friend and sees her working on bottling milk using her powers.

“Kathy, I need your help!” He tells the green girl urgently.

Shocked by the sudden interruption, the green-skinned girl drops the glass container onto the dirt then looks at the boy. “Jon, you shouldn’t scare me like that!”

“Sorry!” He apologies genuinely, scratching the side of his cheek in embarrassment. “Kathy, I need to use your TV! It’s an emergency!”

She giggles at his request before rolling her grassy green eyes. “You’re not trying to get out of your grounding, are you? I don’t want to get in trouble with your mom if that’s the case.”

“It’s not about that!” Jonathan defends with puffed cheeks. “Half of the city is Kidnapped by an evil TV villain! They took Robin! We have to save him!”

“Alright!” Kathy readily agrees, taking Jonathan by the hand and running inside. “But I better get something out of this!”

“Anything!”

“You have to treat me to that extra chocolate-fudge ice cream cone that the parlor made for Valentine’s day.” She bargains and Jonathan sobs internally, lamenting the inevitable loss of his allowance.

“Deal.” He groans, sagging his body forward.

The two of them spend time in Kathy’s living room scrolling through the channels for any sign of Damian or the evil TV villain. Jonathan notes that he doesn’t see Farmer Cobb anywhere in sight. Did he get kidnapped too?

“Hey Kathy, where’s your grandpa? I haven’t seen him all day.” Jon questions, sipping on some juice he grabbed from her kitchen earlier.

Kathy stares at him confused, tilting her head to the left. “What do you mean? He was with me when you came over. He’s probably still working on some stuff at the barn.”

That didn’t happen. All Jonathan witnessed was Kathy working on the farm alone. The eight-year-old tries to recall any sign of Farmer Cobb and is met with an image of the man greeting him as he enters the vicinity of the dairy farm. Jon must have been in quite the rush because he had to look deep within his mind to remember. No one would blame him though when his best friend has been kidnapped!

“Hey Jon, I think I found something weird.” The seven-year-old informs him, pointing at the screen of the old box television.

Certainly, there was something weird on the screen. It looks like a black and white swirl that one would see on cartoons to hypnotize people, but in reality, it was just a simple moving image. “That is weird, but is it what we’re looking for? What channel is this?”

“I dunno.” She presses a button on her controller for the TV guide and reads the words aloud. “It’s the Daily Planet news channel.”

Cautiously, Jonathan takes his now empty juice box and chucks it at the television. Instead of bouncing off the glass, it disappears into the screen like a portal. The children’s jaw drops at the sight and the two look at each other for merely a second before scrambling out of their seats and pushing each other as they try to move through the TV.

The moment the two move to the other side of the screen they’re falling down a swirling abyss without an end. Kathy and Jonathan hold onto each other’s upper arms so as to not get separated. The two continue falling until bright light envelopes them and their bodies flop onto a family dirty city street. Standing up, the children look around to see the night sky overhead, littered with bright and beautiful stars as well as dark gothic architecture. Wordlessly, the duo shared a look of confusion and decided to explore the dark city with crowded streets, a far cry from the emptiness of Metropolis Jonathan experienced earlier into the day.

That wouldn’t have been so weird if Jonathan didn’t recognize one of the people in the streets as the kind old lady he helped that very morning. The mini caped-crusader trots up to the woman with a bright smile to see her frowning. “Hello, mam! How did you get to Gotham?”

The woman jolts a bit at the call but appears utterly relieved to see a familiar face. “Why hello Superboy! Who is your little girlfriend?”

Jonathan and Kathy glance at each other before immediately sticking their tongues out in childish disgust. “Eeeeew, she’s not my girlfriend! That’s gross!”

“Yeah!” Kathy agrees. “I can do better than, Superboy!”

“Yeah- Hey wait a minute!”

The woman chuckles at the juvenile reaction. “Hahaha, well I’m sorry about that. You two are just so adorable!”

“It’s alright, mam. This is my friend, Beacon!” Jon introduces, shaking a single hard in the green-skinned girl’s direction. “She’s a superhero just like me!”

“Aww! How cute!”

Jon huffs at that because they’re not cute. They are serious superheroes who are on an important mission. Kathy doesn’t seem to let the compliment bother her as much as she focuses on the mission at hand. “Mam, can you tell us how you got all the way from Metropolis to here?”

The grey-haired lady hums thoughtfully then answers, “Well, I’m not sure how I got here. I got home, turned on the TV, and the next thing I knew I was here. At first, I thought I was imagining things, but then I saw some of my neighbors around too and the same thing happened to them. We’ve been stuck here waiting for the police to give us any answers.”

“Well, you don’t have to worry too much anymore, mam! Superboy is on the case!” He declares proudly and receives a pat on the head.

“We’re all very lucky that you are. Good luck and stay safe!”

“Thank you, we will!”

With that, the two super-powered second-graders make their way deeper into the city to find more clues. If Damian got sucked through the television then he has to be around here somewhere. They turn a corner into a dirty alleyway, something that is scantily found in Metropolis, and come face to face with a familiar figure. While the person wasn’t the boy wonder they were searching for, it was someone closely acquainted with them.

“Col-”

“Shush!” The older boy silences, putting a hand over Jonathan’s mouth before he could even say the fifth-grader’s name. “Are you trying to get me discovered? You can’t say my name when I’m undercover like this!”

Blue eyes blink as he stares at the beige trenchcoat and hat the taller male was wearing. “This is your costume?”

“We can’t all have premade branding or a billion dollars to spend on this stuff!” He accuses, throwing his hands up in exasperation. “Besides, I need something that won’t be ripped to shreds when I transform.”

“That makes sense.” Jon nods in agreement. It would suck to have his clothes get ruined every time he fights. “So, Abuse, whatcha’ doin’?”

The red-headed child cocks his head around the corner to see a distant person adorned in bright traffic light colors and a Katana break through a window of an abandoned television factory. “I’m the lookout.”

Jon watches the scene unfold before him, silent for a few seconds before his eyes are completely enveloped in an incessant red rage. “DAMI’S BEEN OKAY THIS ENTIRE TIME AND HE HASN’T EVEN CALLED ME!?”

“He did but you weren’t at your base.” Colin points out, holding up his own communicator. “He even used mine in case his phone was broken. Turns out you’re just bad at returning calls.”

“Oh.” That… That makes sense. He left the base without even attempting to call to see if Damian was able to answer. Jon also left all his stuff bat at the Fortress of Attitude so he couldn’t answer any calls.

“What’s going on with the building over there?” Beacon questions, patting her friend reassuringly on the back.

Turning back to the building Robin broke into, Colin explains that the evil villain who transported everyone in Metropolis to Gotham is hiding out in the factory with all of his loot. Damian has gone in alone to try and take out the threat before more people are displaced without a means to get home. Jonathan, aghast at the lack of back up his bestie has, decides to go in to help!

With the subtlety of a bulldozer with a rocket engine duct-taped to the back, Superboy sprints to the factory with vigorous determination. Not caring for stealth, subtle, or the cost of destruction he’s about to wreck upon the structure the small Kryptonian smashes through the front of the building like it was made of paper mache. He manages to destroy several more walls until he finds himself back outside, on the other side. Discerning that he exceeded his progress, Superboy walks backward through an entirely different, undamaged, part of the wall until he finds where the bad guys are located.

Extremely bewildered and concerned goons look at the child in shock before jumping into action and shooting him with their laser guns. Any other hero might be perturbed or bothered by having been shot at, but lasers were weaker than bullets! This means that they’re even more inefficient on Jon because he’s bulletproof.

With a flurry of fury, Jonathan proceeds to punch the bad guys in the face where they immediately go unconscious. By the way that they’re dressed, the people in the room were simply henchmen and not the mastermind of the operation. Jonathan continues his crusade to find his friend and eventually, after many holes in the walls, finds Robin in a fight with the overweight man from the news Jon saw earlier.

“Halt villain!” Superboy shouts, hands on his hips and scarlet cap billowing in the wind. “Your spree of crime ends here now that Superboy and Robin are here to stop you!”

“Hey, dingus, we’re here too ya know.” Abuse states monotonously cause Jonathan to turn around and see both of his other friends watch him, unimpressed.

“Whoops, sorry. I thought you guys stayed behind.” Jonathan apologies while amending his previous proclamation. “Superboy, Robin, Bacon-”

“Beacon.”

“-Beacon and Abuse are here to stop your rain of terror!” He shouts then dives down from the rusty metal railing and jumps into action. 

With impressive coordination, Robin and Superboy make quick work of the villain and put him in bat-themed handcuffs. Jonathan beams with delight at another job well done and Damian sheaths his sword to… Well, Jonathan doesn’t know where Damian keeps his weapons. He pulls them out from what would usually be thin air. It doesn’t matter because Damian always has the right gadget for the mission! It’s the perks of being the son of Batman!

Speaking of Batman, where is he? Surely the Gotham Knight of all people would be made aware of a plot that is involved with Gotham. Shouldn’t he be here, or at the very least check-in to see if they’re okay?

“Hey, Dami-”

“-Tt- Names.”

“Hey Robin,” Superboy corrects. “Where’s your dad?”

The opaque white lenses of Robin’s evergreen domino mask turn to him as though Jonathan asked something absolutely ridiculous. “He’s doing his duty, Superboy. Batman wouldn’t stoop so low as to deal with such ignorant refuse such as this crook.”

That makes sense. Adults must have more important villains to take care of. Jonathan hopes that he can one day be just like his dad and be able to save the world!

“Now all that’s left is to take the criminal to the police and be on our way home,” Damian states, hauling the unconscious man up by the back of his shirt and easily dragging him across the concrete floor.

Following his friend outside Jonathan sees Colin and Kathy explaining the situation to the police and catching them up on the situation. Robin haphazardly throws the TV-themed villain into the back of one of the patrol cars and slams the door violently behind him. Afterward, He joins Jonathan and their two companions next to one of the police officers.

“Hopefully the man will learn a thing or two about too much television in prison,” Robin says and everyone nods their heads in agreement.

Wait, hold up.

“I sure hope so, sonny. Too much TV isn’t good for the mind. Kids should play outside more. This wouldn’t have been as bad if we weren’t so glued to our sets.” The officer agrees and all the kids nod their heads.

That doesn’t sound right. Why is he blaming people for watching the tv? Isn’t the villain who moved them the real bad guy?

“I’ve watched enough TV to last a lifetime, right Superboy?” Kathy inquires to a nonplus Jonathan.

The hybrid gawks at his expectant friends with bewilderment and almost screeches, “What? We barely watched that much TV. I mean, I’m not going to turn on the set anytime soon but that’s why we have the internet. Also, I don’t think TV is the problem here; that was just a tool Control Freak used to commit the crime.”

Everyone begins laughing playfully at Jonathan’s reaction and Colin pats him on the shoulder. “There’s our Jon, always the joker. Not even a TV villain will stop him from watching his favorite shows.”

Why the heck is Colin so cheerful?

“I see, well just be careful and make sure to go to bed on time. Thank you again for saving the day, heroes!” With that it was like the officers in the area took that as their cue to leave which… Uh, doesn’t make any sense. There were still plenty of goons inside the building that Jonathan punched unconscious alone with the technology Control Freak used to move through the televisions. Shouldn’t they collect those?

“It’s time to go home Superboy, no use staying here,” Robin instructs, pulling Jonathan along with everybody else who travels with them. “Let us go home and relax. We have a big day tomorrow for the Valentine's Day parade. Then the next day there’s the school dance. Afterwards, we’re all investigating the haunted house at the end of the street.”

Jon tries to argue against all of that because he doesn’t think he’ll be allowed to do any of that once his parents figure out he skipped school. Plus he can’t go home yet! He still owes Kathy an icecream cone- Nope. Everything is fine.

All is as it should be. What more could Jon ask for when he has his friends with him and adventures to be had? No one gets hurt in this world. No one suffers. No one has problems that can’t be fixed with a quick lesson. Everything is wonderful because Jonathan is free to do what he wants without a dumb adult telling him what to do. His actions don’t have consequences.

All is as it should be.

The four children walk to the Wayne Manor, the doors opening for them without any prodding, and through a super-secret entrance in the forest, the kids find themselves in the Batcave. Damian sits at the Bat-computer to make a log of the day’s events while Colin and Kathy wave goodbye to them as they walk up the long stairs to the house itself. Mr. Pennyworth will most likely drive them home as it appears that Jonathan is staying the night.

Jonathan explores the amazing trinkets and artifacts strewn in the cave with interest. This place is always so cool to examine as there is constantly something new to do. The big T-rex is his favorite as dinosaurs are awesome. A loud ping reverberates through the speakers of the supercomputer and at first Jonathan thinks that Tim is calling again, most likely to tell them to go to bed, but when Damian answers it’s not him.

“Hello, my love.”

A beautiful woman with bronze skin, long silky dark brown hair, sharp chocolate eyes, and dressed in shiny emerald and gold silks appears on the screen. A kind yet sophisticated smile is adorned on her feature as she lovingly gazes upon her son at the computer. The childish elation Damian exuded was like nothing Jonathan had ever seen on the boy before and he looked up to this woman like she was the entire world.

“Mother!” He greets with a bright smile before the boy fixes his demeanor into something more refined. “Mother, I have succeeded in my mission with unmatched efficiency.”

“I’m proud of you, my son.”

“Thank you, mother.”

A sense of unparalleled dread fills Jonathan inside his chest, hollowing it out before it’s flooded with terror he’s never experienced before. What is Damian doing? Why is he talking to that lady? Why is he so happy-”

“Superboy, aren’t you going to greet my mother, or have you lost your manners?” Damian calls out to him from next to the T-rex.

“Coming!” Jonathan cheerfully responds, walking up to the screen. “Hi, Miss Dami’s mom! We had a lot of fun today!”

“That’s nice.” She hums thoughtfully before ignoring Jonathan so that she can talk to her son.

The two Al-Ghuls converse about their days but suddenly, the call ends without the two even saying goodbye. Shouldn’t calls between family last longer? Why even call if all she was going to do was leave the call. She didn’t even tell him to stay safe or any of the stuff adults usually tell kids to do before bed.

“Superboy, why are you still here?” Damian asks as he stares at his perplexed associate.

“Huh?” Jon says confused.

“Why have you yet to go home like Wilkes and Bradden?” He clarifies, rolling his eyes behind his mask. “Do you have something more to accomplish here? If so, what is it?”

How is Jon supposed to get home from Gotham? He can’t fly and he doesn’t know the directions. Is Mr. Pennyworth supposed to drive him home with everyone else? “I… I can’t.” He can’t go home… he has to do something but he doesn’t know what. “I… I need to do something. I just can’t remember. Why can’t I remember?”

“Well if you remember, tell me. That’s what friends are for.” The older boy shrugs and continues to work on the report for the day.

Silence permeates the air again as Jon thinks about the mundane sentence Damian just said. That is what friends are for. Friends are always there for him, but it’s not right. That’s not what they are. “We’re not friends.”

“What?” The other gasps, offended. “Have I done something to upset you? Jokes like that aren’t clever or humorous in the slightest.”

“We’re not friends!” Jonathan says again, holding his throbbing head and staggering backward into a shelf of Batman’s many collectibles. “We’re not just friends! That’s not what we are! We’re partners, we’re confidants, we’re brothers in arms, we’re more than that! You’re literally the thing keeping me grounded, you’re what keeps me focused in this world; you keep me sane and turn me insane!”

“Jonathan,” Damian says, kneeling beside him with concern. “What are you rambling on about? Did something happen while we were separated?”

The boy places his hand on the rocky floor to steady himself and the side of his pinky brushes against a fallen lead box. Without a thought, Jonathan picks the box up into his lap. Opening it reveals a bright neon green shard of kryptonite. Being so close to it causes the child to become visibly nauseous and the ten-year-old tries to yank it away from Jon.

“Jonathan, give me the box. It’s making you more unwell than you already are.” He commands but Jonathan closes it on his fingers. “OW! Jon, what the heck is wrong with you!?”

“A lot is wrong! Too much is wrong!” He screams and stands up as he looks around him, the world clear for the first time in what feels like forever. “Dami, none of this is rea-”

He couldn’t finish his sentence. The fog that disappeared from his mind is coming back causing him to forget. Wow, Jon must be really tired after such an exciting day. He should go home and sleep off whatever it is he’s feeling-

“NO! NO, this isn’t right!” He screeches, beating himself in his head with the lead box. “I don’t want to forget! I can’t keep living like this!”

“Jonathan put the kryptonite down.” Robin orders, trying to talk him down from the episode Jon’s having. Being the empathetic person he is, Damian also pulls out his sword in case Jonathan does something drastic. Smooth. “Neither of us want to do anything we regret.”

Slowly, Jonathan opens the box and takes the shard out. Touching the radioactive mineral burns the delicate skin of his palms but it’s the first real thing he’s felt; He’s not going to let it go. The Kryptonian-human hybrid’s pained expression morphs into one of peaceful happiness as he faces Damian, as though nothing was wrong. Jon moves his arm in a manner that indicates he’s going to hand over the rock. At the last second, before Damian could even take it, Jon’s body freezes and stiffly retracts his hand with an unmoving innocent smile.

“Don’t worry Dami, I’ll get us out of this mess I made. That’s all I’m good for anyways.”

“Jon?” He cries with a wet cry, tears spilling out of his eyes. “Jonathan, what are you doing? You’re scaring me.”

“Don’t worry, I won’t die.”

“JON!?”

Wordlessly he smiles wider in an attempt to comfort the boy he loves dearly and holds the sharp shard to his neck. A desperate shriek shreds through Damian’s mouth, however, he’s utterly helpless to do anything as Jonathan slits his throat with a reassuring grin plastered on his lips the entire time. Jonathan Samuel Kent is not Superboy, but he’s going to save the day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Before I delve into the pain, let me just say again that I am damn proud of the art I made. Okay, now that I got that bragging out of the way, I can continue.
> 
> I watched waaaaaaaaaay too much tv as a kid. That should be obvious by now. Trying to write a completely different medium (TV) into the written word is hard. I had to re-retie this chapter at least once, but I'm glad about how this turned out. I bet you guys weren't expecting this to be the direction Jonathan's wish took, huh? If you did... How?
> 
> Jonathan's idea of freedom is extremely childish and skewed which is why the world his wish created is the same.
> 
> More about the world/place/thing they're all trapped in will be revealed next chapter but some things that I'd like to make note of are that the world Jonathan is experiencing and hearing is different from what everyone else is. Tim, Dami, Colin, and Kathy are living through the same events and seeing the same things but for the most part, everything is slightly different. I hope I made that obvious, but if not it'll be more clear next chapter. The last conversation between Jonathan and Damian though 100% happened so y'all don't have to think too hard about that.
> 
> There's more I could point out and say, but I cannot think of it right now and the chapter is right here so you can take what you want from it. The villain of this arc has also been spelled out in the intro pics, so there's no big reveal going on there. Next chapter: Rated-T for Truth, Terror, and The Laugh-Track!
> 
> Thanks for reading!


	47. Dealing with Devils

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The devil is dressed in orange and Jonathan's eyes are opened to a whole new world(s). That being said, Jon isn't one to quit when what he want's is right in front of him. He'll save everybody no matter the cost!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My update schedule is a roulette wheel (pun intended). God, I'm tired and I should be doing school work buuuuut I love writing this more. Don't worry, I'm not sacrificing my education for this. I just use this for destressing and I am stressed A LOT.
> 
> Thank you all for reading and I hope you enjoy! I appreciate you all and every time I see more people read this fic I'm filled with joy. You guys keep me writing and trying to improve. I'm always amazed at myself for the word count of this fic. When I started I had trouble writing 1k. I always wanted to write a long ass fic cause I love reading them but to actually be here is incredible. (I literally pulled a, "I'll do it myself") I couldn't have done it without you guys 😭💙💚

“JESUS CHRIST KID, WHAT HAS SUPERMAN BEEN TEACHIN’ YA!?”

Those were not the first words Jonathan Samuel expected to hear when he awakened in an endless black void devoid of anything resembling a surface, but that’s what happened. At least he didn’t have a vision like he always did when something like this happens. Why does the voice sound like the parrot from Aladdin?

“Iago?” Jonathan calls out experimentally.

An aghast choking sound echoes in the space and what was complete nothingness before emerges a form of a tiny floating old man in a dapper orange and purple pinstripe suit. “What is with it and kids callin’ me that? I do not sound like Gilbert Gottfried; That guy sounds like me!”

“Oh, geez. Sorry about that Mister.” Jon apologies sheepishly seeing the offending expression on the weird fairy man.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah, fine. That’s the least of my concerns right now!” The man shouts panicky, throwing his hands in the air. “What does concern me is that people keep killing themselves! First that brunette kid, then that tired twink, and now you! You guys gotta stop it with all the killin’! This show is supposed to be PG, not MA! You can’t go changin’ the rating on me!”

Jon stares at the funny little man with an empty look, trying to understand what he just said and is coming up on a blank. His reasoning might not be hindered by that illusion fog anymore, but that doesn’t mean Jonathan has gotten any brighter. “Show? Like… On TV?”

The man nods his head affirmatively and with the tip of his tiny purple bowler hat a retro TV-guide tumbles out. He takes the magazine, licks his thumb to flip through the pages of the magazine. The little boy tries to stand on his tiptoes to get a better look at it, however, the fairy grumpily turns away from him. With a haughty huff, Jonathan crisscrosses his arms exasperatedly and waits for the man to find what he’s rummaging for.

Glancing down at his attire, the child notices that he’s wearing the cotton jacket and jeans he picked out for his Superboy costume when he first wanted to be a hero. He remembers Damian shutting down that idea with a vengeance, so he never got the opportunity to wear it. How is it possible he’s wearing something he never owned?

“Ah HA! Here it is!” The old man announces victoriously, and with a flourish of the hand, an exact copy of the magazine appears in Jonathan’s hands. “Ya see, Kid, Jonathan, can I call you Jon?”

Jon nods his head while examining the ad for a TV show with his name in it. “The Jon and Dami Power Hour; Weeknights at 6:00?”

“Look, if you gotta complaint then take it up with upper management.” The man twirls in the air and his fancy orange suit becomes a boring grey business suit. His funny purple hat was also replaced with mini round spectacles, “Young man, I gave you a timeslot to die for- no pun intended.”

The eight-year-old rubs his neck at the comment yet doesn’t interrupt the magical speaker.

“And I have given ya everything you wanted. Tell me, what am I doin’ wrong here? Why are you not satisfied with the perfect world I gave ya?” The stranger asks, offended by Jonathan’s lack of appreciation. “I’ve tried asking the other two what I’m doing wrong and-- well let’s just say I got kicked in the behind for my troubles. You seem like a comparatively reasonable little fella’ so-” The fairy man convokes a bright red lounge chair for Jonathan to lay upon and a plush violet recliner for himself. “Tell me how I can improve your perfect paradise.”

Jonathan bounces his body on the fine surface of the couch and tests it for comfort levels. After patting it for quality-floof assurance, the eight-year-old precedes to slam face-first into one of the cushions to scream at the top of his lungs. It was a maddening outcry torn from Jon’s very soul that he let free for as long as his body would enable him to. The burning hot emotions were not only expressed vocally but with his powers as well. The sides of the seat break as though they were made of salty crackers and the fabric vaporized as red beams of energy disintegrated the area Jonathan’s eyes laid. Even his voice, which started as the sound of a normal child could make, somehow manages to shake the endless void he was trapped in.

The weird fairy man doesn’t seem to mind that Jonathan was destroying his creation and observed him thoughtfully from his floating chair; even summoning a cup of tea to sip on as Jon rode out his meltdown. The half-human boy went on like this for five more minutes until he seemed to have finally exhausted himself. Sheepishly, Jon looks at the destroyed seat and then nervously at the floating figure. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to break it.”

“You could’ve fooled me.” The older man shrugs and with the snap of his fingers, the couch was as good as new. “I’d say that was a fair reaction after what you just did. Is it out of your system, or do you need some more time?”

Jon pouts at the condescending tone the man was talking at him, yet he merely grumbles, “I’m done…”

“Good, cause I’m not going to tolerate another outburst like that in my abode. I don’t take kindly to brute force, Jon; we’re civilized people.” He tells the second-grader, taking another sip of tea. “Would you like some tea?”

Jon doesn’t like tea, even sweet tea much to the aghast of his paternal family, but he nods his head anyways. He knows that he shouldn’t be taking any drinks from strangers, but the being in front of him is giving him some weird energy that puts him on edge. The man scrunches his face at Jon’s answer and snaps his fingers.

Instead of tea, there’s a box of orange juice in his palms. He gives the other a perplexed gape and the magic person says, “I’m not trying to poison ya, Jon. If you didn’t want tea you could’ve just said so.” He snaps his fingers again so that he’s back in his brightly colored orange suit. “Look, I might be an all-powerful supervillain, bu’ da’ doesn’t mean I’m here to kill you’. That’s not the kind of game I like to play, ya see.”

“Oh…” Jon blurts out dumbly as he pokes his straw into the box. “Um… Mister, I don’t mean to be rude but who are you and how do you know who I am? Why am I here?”

The man cartoonishly smacks his forehead and waves his hand to make his recliner and tea disappear before flying to Jon with an outstretched hand. “Here I am judging your manners and I haven’t even introduced myself. Howdy there Jon, I’m Mister Mxyzptlk! You must always say the Mister part. I am what some may call an imp.” He motions his free hand in the air and the letters M-X-Y-Z-P-T-L-K appear above the man in a physical bubble font.

“That’s a strange name.” The child states as he shakes the man’s hand. “Hi! I’m Jonathan Samuel Kent, but that’s kinda long so my friends just call me Jon.”

“It might be strange to you, but from where I’m from, Jon is a strange name. No pizzaz, no fanfare.” He explains, not the least bit insulted by the child’s observation.

“Wow, where are you from?” Jon asks, genuinely interested where a name that sounds nearly impossible to say could be considered normal.

“The Fifth Dimension.” He answers casually, as though Jonathan should know what the other believes to be a common fact.

“Dimension?” The eight-year-old thinks for a moment. “You're from a completely different reality!”

“BINGO!” He cheers, flying back, and swings his arms up causing confetti to rain from the sky. “Congrats, Jon! You’re a really smart boy, at least smarter than the bozos in this world’s Justice League. Took ‘em at least an hour to figure that out. Have a cookie.”

Surely enough a chewy sugar cookie appears in Jon’s hand. Unperturbed by the magic food, Jonathan readily eats it with a smile. “Thanks!”

“And polite!” He tacks on with a playful wink. “For why I’m here, and by extension, why you’re here, let me fill you in on my tale of woe.” Dramatically, he puts his forearm over his brow and falls backward onto a magically appearing launcher exactly like the one Jon is sat upon. “Everything is so dark and depressing lately. It’s like all the fun is sucked out of super-heroing, ya know? What ever happened to the fun battle between good verse evil, or wacky adventures among a group of superpowered friends?”

The boy leans back in his chair, nodding his head furiously in agreement, his fluffy hair moving wildly with him. “I thought being a superhero would be cool. TV made it look easy, but there’s always more to it that makes it not fun. I want to fight bad-guys, not people. Then I learned that some bad guys are people or that some people care about bad guys and sometimes I’m the bad guy. Even when the villain is defeated, I can’t get over what they did, and the people they hurt don’t stop hurting afterward.”

“Exactly!” The imp bemoans melodramatically. “Why can’t we move on to the next big adventure? I’m tired of watching the same depressing thing over and over again.”

“I’m tired of being sad and seeing my friends sad.” Jonathan agrees, patting the man on his purple shoe because that’s the only thing he can reach.

In return, the powerful man pats Jon on the head. “As a powerful imp, if not the most powerful imp, I have the power to bend reality to my will. I can do anything I want but these days I simply like to watch what goes on in the other worlds.”

Jon stares at the man before asking, “Are you God?”

Mister Mxyzptlk begins hysterically laughing at the question, making Jonathan feel like an idiot. “BWAHAHAHA HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA-You-HAHA! Take a gander at that, looks like we got a real comedian here! HAHAHA! HA-N-no. NO. I’m not God, but I’m flattered you’d think so.” He wipes an invisible tear from the corner of his eye then continues with what he was saying. “My powers have limits and like all people, I have a weakness. Sometimes I use these powers to meddle in other realities, but like a true gentleman, I make sure to clean up after myself. Mostly I just like messing with Superman, which is why you’re here Jon.”

Ah, so this is a Superman villain who went after Jon just to get at him. Another thing his dad was worried about coming to fruition. “Okay, I think I get it. What I don’t get is why you put me in a weird TV show with all my friends.” He takes the TV-guide and flips it around to see other adverts and time slots with the names of his companions in it. “Who else is watching this? This seems like a lot of work for just you.”

Mister Mxyzptlk spins around checking for any eavesdroppers that would be wandering in an empty void, before leaning to Jonathan’s ear to tell him a secret. “Mmm, you’re a good kid, so I’m going to let you in on a little secret I didn’t tell the other two lunatics I had to bring in here.”

The reality-altering imp snaps his fingers once more and Jon falls to the ground, or at least what he thinks is ground, as everything the man created disappears. Disoriented from his fall Jon rubs his back even though he didn’t feel any pain. When the child turns back to look up at Mister Mxyzptlk he’s greeted with the sight of the man floating above him with his arms crossed, his tuxedo now a jumpsuit with sharp shoulderblades of the same color scheme, peering down at Jonathan with a sense of superiority.

At first, Jonathan doesn’t understand what’s happening or why the man took away all the stuff but then the eight-year-old notices a floating display in the background. There, he sees his father and the rest of the Justice League in costume staring back in horror at him.

“Dad!” Jonathan cries, running up to the monitor, but before he could another screen appears next to it showing a similar scene. This time he sees his father except instead of his usual red and blue he’s wearing black and white. “Dad?”

Jon tries walking to the new monitor yet another screen appears showing another Watchtower with younger versions of the Justice League. Then more appear all with varying differences and expressions amidst them until the empty dark void becomes a dome made of TV screens. Countless familiar and unfamiliar faces are staring back at Jonathan and the little boy is overwhelmed to the point he falls onto his back. No matter where he tried to look there was another version of the adults in his life watching him, and he can’t find his own.

Gathering all his strength, he focuses his vision on the extradimensional imp who appears mighty impressed with himself. “Which one is my Daddy?” He hasn’t called his father such a childish name in years, but seeing so much of him and still being lost shakes him to his core. “I want my Mommy and Daddy.”

Seeing the upset child, Mister Mxyzptlk obliges Jonathan’s request and flicks over a screen from the top of the dome in front of Jonathan. The boy places his hands on the display, noting how it feels like cool glass, as the images of his mother and father peer back at him with distraught expressions. Behind them, Jon can see Batman yelling something to his teammate who all scramble to do… Well, Jon doesn’t know because there’s no sound.

The second-grader has never seen his parents so tired. The rims of their eyes were dark and baggy from lack of sleep and each of them put a hand on the screen. He sees their lips moving, but Jonathan doesn’t know how to read their movements. “Mister Mxyzptlk, can I please talk to my parents?”

“Only for a moment, ‘kay?” He relents, snapping his fingers and the chaos in the Watchtower is loud and clear to Jon’s ears; like he was there with them and not somewhere else.

“Jonathan!” His parents shout in desperation and relief at the same time.

“Mommy, Daddy!” Jonathan yells back, sobbing uncontrollably like an infant. “Mommy, Daddy! I want to go home!”

“We know Sweetheart, we want you home too.” Lois weeps, pressing her body closer to the screen. “We miss you so much. We love you, Jon.”

“I’m so sorry, Sport.” His father, Superman, cries with a broken voice. “This is all my fault. This… He was trying to get to me and took you and everyone else away from us. I’m sorry, I’m sorry I couldn’t protect you. I’m sorry I’m not strong enough to protect you.”

“Dad, i- it’s not your fault,” Jon reassures, putting his forehead against the surface between them. “You didn’t know. I didn’t know. He took my wish; this is my fault. This isn’t what I wanted.”

“Jon, it’s not your fault,” Lois states definitely, wiping the tears from her eyes. “Never blame yourself. As your parents, it was our job to protect you and keep you safe, but we didn’t… We haven’t been doing a very good job. We’re sorry.”

“Stay strong Jonathan, we’re working around the clock to find where you are and take everyone home,” Clark tells him with renewed determination.

Before Jonathan could reply, the screen mutes itself and is flung up into the air where it previously resided at the top of the dome.

“NO!” Jon shrieks, reaching for it with both hands to no avail as it gets lost in the sea of unfamiliar familiar faces. “Mom! Dad!”

“Geez Jon, get a grip.” The imp scolds, hovering to Jon’s eye level and pulling the boy off the floor and onto his feet. “You’ll see them again and they’re keeping an eye on it. In fact, everyone in this room is keeping their eyes on you. You’re the star of one of the most exclusive extra-dimensional shows in all the universes. A show ain’t no fun without a loyal fanbase.”

Mister Mxyzptlk claps his hands together and a large screen the size of that of a movie theater lands next to him. Sky blue eyes widen as he witnesses himself in real-time. Tentatively, Jon moves his hand and his counterpart moves his hand at the exact same time. “How-?”

“Jon, I’m an all-powerful being! I can do anything and you’re the most entertaining thing to have happened to me in a long time.” He states with a smirk. “Your world has been untouched, uncorrupted, and blocked off from all the other realities. That, my little star, isn’t nothin’ to scoff at. If it was simply that, It’d be enough for me to want to cause a bit of trouble, but there’s more than meets the eye.”

He snaps his fingers again, and Jon wonders how someone is able to snap with gloves on. That’s not important, but it’s what he focuses it on. After a moment of silence, a plastic display of the galaxy lands in his arms. Instead of showing Jon all the planets in the solar system, each globe was earth. Mister Mxyzptlk points to a certain planet and before Jon’s very eyes, large locks and chains envelop the planet.

“A lock?”

The old man nods gleefully. “There are so many realities out there, you don’t even know. Even so, this one; this one is yours. It’s the only one that has a barrier blocking it off from all the others. After years of tryin’ ta break through the lock began to crack two months and a half ago. I ain’t one to look a gift horse in the mouth, so I jumped at da’ chance! It took some time, but I finally made it to the other side on your birthday of all days! Isn’t that terrific? I’m like the best fairy-godfather you ever had!”

“Mister Mxyzptlk, this has been the worst birthday of my entire life.” The eight-year-old points out and is laughed off. “And why did you spend so long trying to get to my world when it was blocked by a giant lock? Aren’t there--like, a bazillion other worlds that would be easier to get to?”

“Pfft- everyone’s a critic. Have you ever heard of the Great Wall of China, Jon?”

“Yeah, I learned about it in school,” Jon replies matter-of-factly. “It’s a big wall that protects China and can be seen from space.”

The floating man chuckles and pats the denim arm of Jon’s Superman jacket. “Well, it might have been made to protect it, but it also encouraged their enemies to try harder to break through. That is what your world is: a temptation, a challenge, and a barrier. To people like me, your world is a gem that never had the opportunity to be refined. You’ve never had a crisis to overcome and force you to get stronger. That makes this earth prime real estate to mold into whoever comes here first. Lucky for you, that person is me. Let me show you how your world is greener.”

The model disappears from his grasp and a screen pops in front of him, yet instead of his parents, it’s… Damian and himself? The Damian on-screen is dressed exactly how Damian wanted his original Robin uniform to be designed, and the Jon on screen is much taller than himself. They’re watching from a Watchtower with their own families who all appeared to be started by the fact their world was chosen as an example.

In an instant volume is restored to his ears as the sound of an empty room fills them. The only thing being projected are the peoples’ breaths of its inhabitants. Cautiously, the second-grader chooses to make the first contact. “Uh… Hi?”

“Hey!” The taller Jon replied cheerfully with an excited wave. “Hey, quick question: Dami? Really? Of all the people to be crushing on you choose Damian!? We can do so much better than him!”

Well, that’s just rude.

“-Tt- Superboy, you are terrible at first impressions. Now not only this child thinks we’re a bunch of immature hellions, but now do multiple universes!” The other Dami scowls at his friend, hitting him upside the head.

“I don’t have a crush,” Jonathan asserts, affronted by the reaction of his counterpart. “We’re engaged. Crushes are for people who aren’t in a relationship.”

“And Dad let you?!”

“He can’t stop me.” The Superman and Batman in that universe make a horrible choking noise, yet Jon doesn’t falter. “I don’t see how you’re supposed to be stronger than me.”

“My dad lets me be a superhero.” Other Jon argues with his tongue sticking out childishly. “So there!”

Damian pinches the bridge of his nose and takes in a deep breath. “Say what you want about my utterly inept Kent-”

“HEY!”

“But he has control of his powers and experience rivaled any professional hero in your world. It’s quaint to think your world could compare.”

“Are you a butt in every world, or are you just special?” Jon accuses with an eye roll.

“You’re the one willing to slit your throat for said ‘butt’ so who’s the real fool?” The shorter Robin argues with his arms crossed defiantly. 

It takes a moment to remember, but Jon did do that, didn’t he. “Would your Jon do it for you?”

“My Superboy is strong enough not to.” He retorts.

“Aww, you do care!” The other Jon coos teasingly, fluttering his eyelashes exaggeratedly. The other Damian retaliates by shoving his hands in the boy’s face and forcing the child to fall over.

“I hate you!” The two boys begin to fight on the ground and the screen is launched into the either, then replaced by another screen.

This time he sees a version of himself in black and white, yet wearing the House of El symbol on his chest. In the corner of the screen, a Damian is wearing the silk green robes from the League of assassins looking uncharacteristically, or maybe it was in-character, nervous at being put in the spotlight. This Jon is someone who exudes confidence and pride. Even though they’re at a leveled height, Jonathan couldn’t help but feel as though he was much shorter.

“It’s adorable how weak your world is.” The monotone Jon scoffs and the second-grader notices that this Jonathan’s eyes were prominently red. “And a pity to see how inadequate not only you are, but all the other versions watching right now.”

“Jon-”

“You don’t have permission to call me that, Al-Ghul.” That Jon hisses with glowing eyes.

“Lord Jon-El” That Damian corrects himself sumbissively. “I-I don’t think it’s a good idea to goad the other worlds. They could come and take it as a challenge-”

Red eyes roll and Jon-El releases an obnoxious snort. “I didn’t ask for your opinion; I don’t keep you around for your thoughts. Let the weaklings come. I’m a conqueror of worlds, it’s my job to crush those that challenge me and my father’s rule.” The other Jon turns his attention back at his inferior doppelganger. “But you, I bet I could decimate your entire universe in seconds, but it’d be a waste of my time. Your world isn’t worth the space it wastes.”

Thankfully, the unpleasant version of himself is whisked away as another screen is placed before him. This time it shows an older version of himself in a superhero costume similar to his Dad’s and… Batman? But he has darker skin- Oh wait that must be Damian.

“Jonathan,” Batman… BatDami says in an authoritative tone. “Make Mister Mxyzptlk say his name backward. That is how you defeat him.”

Oh! A solution! Jonathan doesn’t know why he hasn’t asked any of the other Jonathan’s for an answer since they’re so experienced. “I can barely say his name forward.”

“Jon, I’m not going to sugarcoat it. You and your entire world is at a disadvantage.” The older Jon… SuperJon, announces with an aura of solemnity. “You should not have been dragged into this, but now you’re stuck having to clean up this mess; You have little chance of success. That being said, I believe you can overcome this hurdle. Stay strong, and don’t give up.”

“Also, please stop inflicting harm upon yourself,” BatDami adds tiredly. “I don’t think any of us could withstand another barbaric slaughter of your body.”

The screen disappears leaving the small child alone with Mister Mxyzptlk who looks irritated about having his weakness revealed. “Talk about spoilers. I should’ve cut off the feed before he revealed my one weakness.” He doesn’t seem to mind as he shrugs it off. “It doesn’t matter too much. I’ve fought hundreds of Supermen who were a million times smarter than you, so it’s not like you’re a threat.”

“What are you going to do to me now?” Jon questions glancing at the imp. “Are you going to try and erase my memories of this and put me back in the show?”

“Mmmmmmmmm…” Mister Mxyzptlk hums thoughtfully, rubbing his chin with his thumb and index finger. “At first, I was. I was going to perfect your little paradise so that you won’t break free again, except that didn’t work for the other guys. No matter what I did they wanted to go back to being sad and stuff. You took a lot longer to escape-”

Wow, thanks for making Jon feel dumber than he already did.

“But maybe it’s a sign I’m going about this all wrong. Instead of using you to mock your dad, I should be focusing on you! It ain’t so funny to mess with a Superman who doesn’t know how to deal with the likes of me. There’s no struggle; I’ve been sitting here for nearly two months for your old man to come after me, but ZIP, ZILCH, NADA, BUPKIS! You and your friends on the other hand have given me a real challenge. It’s endless tweaking and testing just to make it to a point you don’t get sick eating your favorite foods or kill yourselves! You’re an extremely difficult child.”

“It wouldn’t be a good thing if I made it easy for a supervillain.” Jonathan boasts pridefully, puffing out his chest with a silly grin.

He’s rewarded with another head pat. “You sure don’t kid. Talkin’ to ya is more fun than trying to keep you down. That being said, do you like games, Jon?”

That piqued Jonathan’s attention and the boy tilts his head curiously. “A game? I love games!”

“I love ‘em too, kiddo!” Mister Mxyzptlk admits with a grin that stretches his features to unimaginable proportions. Jon already knew that the imp wasn’t human, but now the cheerful fairy-like man was more like a devil than anything Jonathan has ever seen. Let’s play a game, a gamble, a sport, a contest, and a bet. I’m going to forget about good ol’ Supes for a bit and focus on you cause I like the look in your eyes! Such innocence, such pure brilliance, and a mind able to appreciate the work I do. What do ya say, Jon; do ya’ wanna play a game with me?”

With a snap of his fingers, the windows to the other worlds revolve around him with accelerating speeds. Soon enough the second-grader isn’t able to tell apart from one world from another as they all blur into a powerful colorful vortex. The force of the tornado knocks Jonathan onto his knees, his hair and cape billowing in the wind. Sky blue eyes water at the air being blown in them and he holds his arms up to protect himself. Mister Mxyzptlk floats, untouched by the chaos, in the center of it all with a hand stretched out to him anticipating a shake; his grin manic among the seemingly innocuous demeanor.

Jonathan purses his lips as he peeps over his sleeve at the grinning being before him and then to the purple gloved hand. “What kind of game?”

“Glad you asked!” He bellows, narrowing his black beady eyes into smiling crescents. “Let’s play a game with everything at stake. If I win, I can continue doing everything I want. If you win, I’ll let you and your friends go.”

“That’s a sucky deal,” Jon states dissatisfied. “You’ll still be here to cause trouble for everyone. Nothing is stopping you from doing all of this again!”

“You make a good point.” Mister Mxyzptlk nods. “Alright, how about if you win I set you free and I leave your world alone. To sweeten the deal, I’ll even close the rift so that no one else can ever come to bother ya ever again.”

“Okay, that sounds good.” The boy concedes and reaches to shake the imp’s hand, but stops before their fingers could touch. “And you promise to stick to your word?”

With his other hand, Mister Mxyzptlk draws an X over his chest then pokes himself in the eyes without flinching. “Cross my heart, hope to die, stick a needle in my eye.”

Well, that’s the strongest form of promise-keeping Jonathan has ever known so it must be true. “Deal!”

Jon shakes the tiny hand readily, and a dark shadow is cast above the imp’s eyes as his grin now takes up half the man’s face. “Good to hear, Jon my boy. Now, let’s go over the rules of the game, shall we?”

Mister Mxyzptlk rises high above him in the center of the dome with his limbs opened wide, inviting all viewers to gaze upon his magnificence. An old 1920’s microphone materializes on a stand and the man takes it with unadulterated glee. “Ya hear that folks!?! It appears we’re going to have a change in programming! Make some popcorn, grab yourself a drink, get comfortable, and upgrade to pay-per-view! This is something you’re not gonna wanna miss!”

“What the heck is a pay-per-view?” Jonathan muttered to himself as the volume of every display is unmuted, causing an outcry of voices to abuse the broadcaster.

There were too many voices to differentiate anything tangible, but he did catch a swear word or two thrown at Mister Mxyzptlk. The man didn’t care that the audience jeered at him and acts like the heckling was a swarm of resounding applause. “I know you’re all excited, but before we can do anything else let’s meet our contestant! Jonathan Samuel Kent of Earth 1349 come on down!”

The floor beneath the child’s feet shot up and elevated the eight-year-old on a platform to be displayed like a pageant dog. Jon struggles to keep his balance but manages to make do. Once he’s next to Mister Mxyzptlk the man shoves the microphone into Jon’s hands. Shyly, Jonathan takes the amplifier and taps on the side a couple of times to test it, the reverberations louder than the combined shouts of countless worlds.

“Uh-” Jonathan begins to say when a horrid sonic screech rips itself from the device. He holds it away from him at arm’s length until the noise subsides before trying again. “H-Hello everybody! My name is Jonathan and… Uh-” 

He looks to the older man who gives him a comforting head pat, ushering him to continue. “You’re doin’ swell kiddo! Come on, tell ‘em about yourself.”

“Sir, I don’t think they want me to do this.”

“Ey, dat’s for me to worry about.”

“If you say so.” Jonathan obeys, putting the microphone closer to his lips. “I want to thank everyone here for watching my show even if it was kinda weird. I mean… I think it was. I don’t remember much of it. It’s kinda like a giant hole in my memory cause one second I was blowing out the candles of my birthday cake and the next thing I know I’m in the Batcave screaming. I can almost remember bits and pieces of being in a show, and I want to watch it but I don’t know if it was recorded. Was it recorded?”

Mister Mxyzptlk shrugs his shoulders. “If you win, I’ll make a DVD collection for ya.”

“Wow, thanks!” He beholden beams at the imp. “I also never trained my powers before because my mom and dad say that being a hero is dangerous. I don’t even know all the powers I have, but I’ll do my best to use whatever I have to win!”

“That’s the spirit, Jon!” He rallies, hooking an arm around the boy’s shoulder. Leaning into the microphone the man begins to explain the rules of the game. “I’d hate to waste the wonderful illusions I created for everyone so we’re going to use ‘em to their fullest. Jon, all you have to do is to free all of your friends from their illusions before the timer runs out.”

On cue, an enormous hourglass falls from the sky the size of a skyscraper and almost crushes Jonathan under its weight. “Holy cow!? How long is that supposed to be, forever?!”

“It’s however long I want it to be. If I think you’re taking too long I’ll speed it up. If something extra juicy is happening on the screen I’ll let it linger.”

“How is that fair?!” Jon wails at the sheer audacity of the unfairness.

“It’s not.” Mister Mxyzptlk concurs with a devilish leer. “If you want more time, you better make a spectacle of it.”

The child pouts and grumbles unable to fight against the unfairness of his situation.

“Don’t be upset, Jon. You’re the lead protagonist of this universe’s first-ever extradimensional conflict. You should feel proud of yourself for having the spotlight.” The imp tries to console and gloriously misses the mark. “Whatever, your opinions don’t matter to the ratings.”

Rude.

“Here’s a list of all the shows, kid.” He announces, projecting a large picture of a TV guide on the surface of the dome. “You’re going to jump from show to show and try to break everyone out of their perfect little worlds.”

“Like a video game?” Jon presses for clarification.

“Like a video game.”

“Cool!”

Mister Mxyzptlk smiles in agreement. “Very cool. Now, this is just the order of the shows, but seeing as everybody is technically in one world you could free your friends out of order. I wouldn’t bet on it though.”

“Why not?” Jonathan asks, trying his best to read the synopsis for each show and being stumped on a couple of words.

“You see here sonny,” He grabs Jonathan’s chin and gesticulates his fingers to the directory. “There’s this thing called genre; something you’re very keen on breaking. I can’t just have you going in and shouting how everything is a lie! Genre is what helps keep everyone in check and what keeps everyone comfortable with accepting the world. That’s why certain words and actions are forbidden.”

“I get it!” The boy pipes up with proud recognition. “That’s why I forgot when Tim tried to tell me the truth, or why Colin was extremely cheerful when he’d usually be mad at me!”

“Correct! Here’s another cookie.” And sure enough, another cookie appears in Jon’s hands for him to munch on while Mister Mxyzptlk continues to explain his game. “You gotta figure out the genre and how to break your friends outta it without breaking the entire world. And just to be safe, I’m going to give you and your friends immunity to each other so none of ya can pull some deranged murder-suicide pact. We’re here to have fun, not die horribly. Now that that’s all settled, any questions kid?”

Jonathan quickly forces the rest of the treat down his throat, asking, “May I please have some more juice, Mister Mxyzptlk?” Instantly another juice box plops down in his fingers and the boy eagerly consumes it. “Thank you!”

“Any real questions?”

Jon thinks about it for a few moments, going over everything he’s heard so far and wondering how in the world he’s ever going to do this. This entire task seems impossible, but Jonathan Samuel Kent isn’t a quitter. He, inadvertently, got everyone into this mess and he’ll be damned if he doesn’t try to get them out of it. “When you say free my friends, what does that mean?”

“It means you break ‘em free of their illusion. Get them to reject their ideal reality and want to go back with you.”

“So even if I get them to remember, they won’t be free unless they want to,” Jonathan concludes tiredly, the gap separating him and victory ever-widening.

Mister Mxyzptlk winks at Jon. “Exactly. Trust me, I worked hard to make these worlds perfect so it ain’t gonna be easy.”

Biting his bottom lip, the hybrid crosses his arms thoughtfully, brows furrowed much like his mother when she’s working on a case. “Mister Mxyzptlk, you went after me and used my wish as a base for this, didn’t you?”

A cheery chortle resounds off the child’s ear as the man gleams at him. “Yeah, what ‘bout it?”

Jon hums thoughtfully then inquires, “‘I wish we could live in a world where kids like us can be free without adults telling us what to do.’ That is what I wished for.”

“Uh-huh.” The imp agrees, smiling wider.

“And you wouldn’t lie to me, right?”

“Of course I wouldn’t Jon. Where’s the fun in that?” He clarifies.

“Okay then, do I just have to rescue my friends, or do I have to save all the kids you trapped in your world?” Jonathan questions threateningly, glancing up at the floating man whose eyes widen with surprise.

“Well, well, well I guess you aren’t as stupid as you look at first glance. I’m astounded you figured that part out.” He practically bellows in delight, releasing Jonathan from his hold and sticking a gold star on the second-graders forehead. “You and your buddies are the only children I made worlds for. I might have all the time in the universe at my fingertips, but I ain’t a masochist.”

“I dunno what that is.”

“Good. Anyways, you only need to free your friends.”

“I have a lot of friends, give me a list,” Jonathan demands, crushing the empty juice box in his hands.

“I guess that’s the least I could do. If I had to watch you save every child of a hero or villain we’d be here all day.” And from the man’s nonexistent pocket on his jumpsuit, he pulls out the names of everyone Jon is required to save.

**Objectives (From Easiest to Hardest):**

_-Timothy Drake_

_-Colin Wilkes_

_-Conner Alexander Luthor_

_-Kathy Branden_

_-Damian Wayne_

_-Christopher Kent (Lor-Zod)_

“I also copied the TV guide on the back for easy access. Only you and anyone you free can see it. Satisfied?”

“Yes sir, thank you very much,” Jon replies, pocketing the slip of paper in his jeans. “Last question: If these are the required people I have to save, does that mean I can save others along the way?”

“If you got the time, I don’t see why not.” He answers smugly. “But you’re on a timer, Jon. I wouldn’t waste too much time on them.”

“Okay, I don’t have any more questions, Mister Mxyzptlk.” Jonathan yields quietly, doing his best to pacify his frenzied nerves for the trial about to befall him.

This wasn’t going to be anything like the obstacles he faced before, where death was imminent, and lives were at stake. No, there was more; No one will die, but the safety of his entire universe is on the line and an immeasurable amount of people are watching. His family is watching and they’re counting on him. Everyone (or at least the people in the nice universes) wants him to succeed.

No pressure, right?

The powerful individual takes the microphone from Jonathan’s fingers and flys back towards the crowd with a flourish. “I hope you were taking notes, folks! Ladies, gentlemen, and the RGB in between; get ready to watch our protagonist attempt to save the day against all odds!... RIGHT AFTER THIS COMMERCIAL BREAK!”

At once, the crowd roars in disapproval but the sound is promptly cut off as each otherworldly display becomes nothing more than TV static. Jonathan is on the ground instead of being displayed in the sky, standing with his head held up high. Mister Mxyzptlk confidently places his hands on his hips, body towing over Jon. A show of superiority is only emphasized by the fact that even though both males are powerful in their own right, Jonathan is young and inexperienced.

He might be a nuke, but in front of him was the Death Star.

A doorway emitting a blind white glow that almost blinds Jonathan manifests at his feet. A light breeze escapes the opening, billowing Jonathan’s Superman cape behind him. Jonathan doesn’t flinch as he glares at the imp from the fifth dimension for only a moment before following the man’s unspoken lead.

“You got moxie, that’s something every Jonathan has in common.” Mister Mxyzptlk comments condescending, not bothering to suppress his overzealous grin. “Good luck, and don’t forget to smile for the camera. You’re a star burning bright, kid.”

“I’m a supernova trying not to explode.” Jon hisses angrily, his steps steady as it is enveloped by the supernatural light.

He passes through the gate between worlds, bracing himself for anything. Who knows what kind of world awaits him? What kind of strange and demented illusion is on the other side of this doorway? Whatever it is, Jonathan will overcome it and never quit because that is who he is.

**HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!**

Wait, what was that-

“I SWEAR TO FUCKING GOD IF I HAVE TO HEAR ANOTHER LAUGH-TRACK I’M GOING TO KILL MYSELF AGAIN!” Jonathan hears Tim shrieks at the top of his lungs despairingly.

Huh… This might be harder than Jon thought.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For my Spanish-speaking readers who couldn't google translate the TV guide image, here you go! (Sorry for the errors, I used google.)
> 
> La hora del poder de Jon y Dami  
> Problemas con el televisor (T1 EP49)  
> 6:00 PM - 7:00 PM  
> Únase a Jonathan Samuel Kent y sus amigos mientras continúa su emocionante  
> aventuras y lucha contra el crimen. En el camino, aprenderá una vida importante.  
> lecciones y diviértete haciéndolo con el apoyo de espectadores como tú!  
> ¡Gracias!
> 
> Siempre está nublado en Gotham  
> ¡Spoilers! La chica misteriosa (T2 EP23)  
> 7:00 PM - 7:30 PM  
> Timothy Jackson Drake-Wayne continúa sus aventuras con su  
> familia loca. Con hermanos como él, ¡cualquier cosa podría pasar! Como será  
> Tim soporta las molestias de la vida cotidiana como un niño rico mimado  
> agua en una escuela pública?
> 
> JOY  
> ¡Nos estamos liberando! (T3 EP4)  
> 7:30 PM - 8:00 PM  
> Conner Luthor, después de unirse a la escuela de música y baloncesto  
> equipo, estás en una situación difícil! No puedes asistir a ambos clubes en  
> ¡al mismo tiempo! Peor aún, le pidió por error a tres chicas diferentes que  
> el baile de la escuela! ¿Cómo saldrá nuestro héroe de esto?
> 
> Pequeña granja lechera en el espacio.  
> Luna de queso (T1 EP49)  
> 8:00 PM - 9:00 PM  
> Kathy Branden es la granjera de todos los días sin problemas reales y sin  
> grandes secretos ... bueno, excepto que es una extraterrestre de otro planeta. Ahora  
> ella tiene que encontrar una manera de ocultar su verdadera forma mientras también trata de salvar  
> la granja lechera de su familia!
> 
> Dami el cazador de monstruos  
> Liberación (T4 EP11)  
> 9:00 PM - 10:00 PM  
> El final de la temporada 4 de Dami the Monster SLAYER es más grande que nunca.  
> No solo tienes que luchar contra invasores alienígenas, sino  
> ¡Los monstruos también secuestraron a su amada! Con su único aliado siendo un rival  
> Asesino, debes pasar estas pruebas y salvar el mundo.
> 
> Kryptonians  
> Cautiverio (T1 EP10)  
> 10:00 PM - 12:00 AM  
> Continuación de nuestras observaciones sobre el tema # 112739490200. Signos  
> mostrar un efecto adverso a la falta de luz solar. Se necesitan más pruebas.  
> ____________________________________________
> 
> Okay, now that we got that out of the way, I'm so fucking excited. Everything I've written has been leading up to this moment. I dropped a lot of info in this chapter and I hope I did it well. This is the arc where questions will be answered and I'm so excited! I'm really eager to hear your thoughts about what you anticipate from this storyline and I always love reading speculations. (Though if you don't that's fine, I'm just happy you're reading this). Thank you for reading and I hope I didn't put anyone off so far into this fic!
> 
> Next Chapter: Teenage dreams and professional thrid wheel to the rescue!


	48. What do you want from me?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jonathan is in his first world and has to figure things out on his own. Luckily he doesn't stay alone for long as he meets a new and old friend along the way. Will Jonathan free his friends or will he stay stuck? Also, where is that laughing sound coming from?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for reading as always and I love hearing your comments. Writing this chapter was very emotional for me and I hope I got through what I wanted. Thank you again and I'll have more to say in the end chapter if you want to hear my thoughts. Even if you don't care thank you for reading, it's all I could ask for. 
> 
> I also saw on Tumblr while scrolling the supersons tag (cause of course I do) that I made someone's fic rec list. That made my fucking day so whoever that is (sorry I forgot your name) thanks for that.

Now that Jonathan Samuel Kent has spent some time with the list of people he needs to save, he has come to the conclusion that Tim is only the easiest to free from his world because he already thoroughly rejects it. The fifteen-year-old has been aware of their situation far longer than Jonathan, which makes the boy’s job easier. All Jon has to do now is to find Tim, tell him the situation, and then they can move on. Easy peasy lemon squeezy!

Except there’s one problem with his simple plan, Jonathan can’t find Tim anywhere. The elementary schooler knows that he heard him when he passed through the door, but now that Jonathan’s vision is working again, he can’t find him. In fact, he doesn’t even know where he is!

Jon has never had the opportunity to explore the streets of Gotham for two obvious reasons: He’s eight, and it’s Gotham. No self-respecting parent would let their child wander the streets with parental supervision let alone by themselves. The only people crazy enough to do so are the people who live in the Godforsaken city. Jon’s father always did say that Gothamites are a different breed of people.

The only reason the child knows he’s in Gotham is the telltale charcoal smog-filled sky above him. It’s almost beautiful how over a million people are capable of living in an over-polluted area without any ill side-effects. Well, besides the constant supervillains outbreaks and the fact no one blinks at a grown man in a bat suit fighting crime with an army of children.

Nevermind, Jon gets it now.

Jonathan traverses the filthy streets of Gotham, unable to discern precisely where he was due to his lack of vocabulary and the grime covering the street signs. He almost regrets not taking Damian’s lecture about expanding his education more seriously, yet not enough to do anything about it. The little boy in Superman’s clothes wanders around some more on the crowded streets and decided that he wasn’t making any progress. Jon flips the list in his hands to look at the TV-guide to see if there were any clues about what he should be doing.

The summary of the show, if context clues were to be trusted, tells Jon that he should either be headed for the Wayne Manor, or a public school. Sadly, Jonathan has the directional capabilities of a blind drunk driver. A feeling of unease seeps its way into him, as he worries about his time limit. If Jon doesn’t make any progress soon then Mister Mxyzptlk will cut his time, and then he’ll never save his friends and everyone he got trapped here!

“Okay Jon, you can do this!” He consoles, trying his best to hype himself up. “You can do this! Tim is already free, so all you gotta do is find him and tell him what’s going on!” The child lightly smacks both of his cheeks before shouting, “I CAN DO THIS!”

“SHUT THE FUCK UP, METROPOLIS!” A voice shouts from one of the buildings.

“Sorry!” Jon shouts back before running away in a random direction. “Even in a fake world, Gotham people are mean.”

He pushes through the crowd of people littering the streets as he desperately tries to find a way to the Wayne Manor, the place Jon is most familiar with. With no direction or purpose, trying to find his destination might as well be as impossible as winning this game. He’s not going to give up, he can’t give up! Damian is trapped here too-

Ba-bump Ba-bump Ba-bump Ba-bump Ba-bump

Damian.

Ba-bump Ba-bump Ba-bump Ba-bump Ba-bump

That’s right, Jonathan has all his powers available to him now that the collar has disappeared.

Ba-bump Ba-bump Ba-bump Ba-bump Ba-bump

This also means his super-hearing is back.

Ba-bump Ba-bump Ba-bump Ba-bump Ba-bump

And without even trying, he’s locked onto Damian. Damian would know where the manor was, Damian would know where Tim would be, and Damian would help Jon.

With an abrupt stop, Jonathan halts his movements and immediately turns heel, and begins sprinting with all of his might. His steps leave deep dents in the pavement and the force of the wind on his feet is enough to uproot streetlights. Magically, the destruction in his wake is fixed and the citizens don’t take notice of the superpowered child wreaking havoc to their unfair city.

An array of perfectly pristine manors registers in the eight-year-old’s vision. He’s about to topple down the iron gates of the richest man in Gotham’s abode when his body comically ricochets off the surface like rubber. Jonathan is launched across the street into an abandoned mansion, destroying the face of the house until it was not more than rubble.

“What the-”

“CUT!” An unforgettable crow-like voice hollers, the sound broadcasting from all directions and shook the foundation of the building.

Still laying in the rubble, Jonathan whirls his head in every way to locate the cause before he’s smacked on the hair by a roll of paper. Looking up, he comes face to face with Mister Mxyzptlk in a brown director’s cap and holding a clapperboard in his other hand. He’s slapped with the papers again and the imp glowers at him menacingly.

“Jon, what did I tell you about brute force?” He scolds with a disapproving shake of the head. 

Jonathan shrinks into the debris, coving the bottom of his face with a support beam. “That you don’t take kindly to it…”

“If you were listening so well, then why are you trying to smash your way in?! This is a sitcom, not an action show!” Mister Mxyzptlk informs, giving Jonathan one more good smack on the head before tucking the booklet underneath his arm and snapping his fingers.

In an instant, the mansion Jonathan ruined is rebuilt before his eyes, and the drywall dust on his clothes vanishes. Disoriented by the ordeal, sky blue eyes blink repeatedly before a herculean tremor wracked its way over Jonathan’s person. The shockwave made him green in disgust until Jon could recover.

“Urgh, I don’t feel so good.”

“That’s what you get for trying to break da’ rules, kid.” Mister Mxyzptlk tells him unsympathetically. “You’re lucky that’s all you get. If you had tried any harder to break the genre, it might try and suck you back in until you forget this isn’t real.”

Jonathan’s eyes nearly bulge out of his skull at the information, screaming, “WHAT!? THAT CAN HAPPEN!?”

“Of course it can. You think you’re out of the woods jus’ cause you’re playin’ tis game? There has ta’ be consequences for this to be entertaining!” The floating man grabs the black and white clapperboard with both hands, lifting the smaller piece delicately. “I ain’t givin’ ya any more freebies! Ya hear?”

“Yes sir.” Jonathan grumbles, puffing his cheeks and crossing his arms.

“Good.” Mister Mxyzptlk says before adding. “While I’m at it-”

**[TIME SUBTRACTED FROM CLOCK]**

“Hey! I can’t even see the clock!”

“Not my problem!” He announces, letting the two wooden pieces hit each other with an echoing clap. “AND ACTION!”

Mister Mxyzptlk vanishes from the world leaving Jonathan alone in an empty home. He releases an extended sigh, kicking his feet on the floor in defeat as he makes his way out. He wraps his fingers around the gold plated handle of the door before he notices a photo on the side table by the entrance. He removes himself from the exit and picks up the finely crafted wooden frame of the picture.

Running his fingers across the glass, Jon inspects the people in the photo with a somber expression. In the image was what at first glance is a perfect family: two well-dressed parents adorned in the finest of accessories and a son who has the happiest expression on his face. Everything was manufactured to be perfect except parents in the picture were not touching their child. No reassuring hand on the shoulder, a loving pat on the head. Everyone was standing far from each other, yet close enough to be considered family.

The smile on the boy’s face didn’t reach his royal blue eyes and his clothes were pressed to the point of looking unnatural. He knows that boy with a thin frame and desaturated skin caused by late nights and early mornings. He knows that clean styled hair that’s black enough to blend into the night. This was Tim’s house or at least what used to be his home before he was taken in by Bruce Wayne.

Running up the stairs, Jonathan searches through the hallways until he discovers a room that would belong to a child. There were Batman-themed bed sheets on the mattress and a Robin-Themed skateboard sticking out from underneath. Jonathan takes the skateboard that he doesn’t know how to ride as well as a recognizable metal suitcase. Opening the case reveals the retro polaroid camera he gave Jonathan for Christmas over a month ago.

He presumed that the device was something Tim himself previously owned and in Jonathan’s juvenile mind the camera would be where a child would hide something. Did it make any sense for it to be here now? No. Did Jon know it would work? Absolutely not. Was he right? Heck yeah, he was!

Admittedly, Jonathan’s mental library of sitcom tropes was remarkably limited as he was never allowed more than two hours of television a day at most. Why would Jon waste such precious time on old shows when he could be watching cartoons? That doesn’t mean that he doesn’t know any tropes at all. Sitcoms, from his inadequate exposure, are all about convenience and wacky hijinks. Things happen because the characters need them to happen or want them to happen. If there was a thread of logic to be found, even if it was extremely thin, then there was a reason for something to happen.

Jonathan also discovered a lockpicking kit under the bed which has the potential to be useful. With his new instruments of destruction in hand, the elementary schooler marches out of the house down the driveway. Across the street, Jon sees the fence separating the Wayne Manor from the rest of the world. After leaving the perimeter of the abandoned Drake residence, Jonathan storms over to the gate with unbridled determination and up to the speaker box next to the entrance.

“Hello! Mr. Pennyworth?” Jon screams into the microphone to the best of his ability, standing on the tips of his toes to try to press the button.

No one answers him which is strange as the family butler is the most efficient person the young Kent boy has ever come across. He tries a few more times with the same results and eventually, he kicks the useless device in frustration.

The second his foot collides with the metal pole Jonathan noticed that it was not in fact metal but plastic. “A prop!?” Jonathan screams in disbelief and walks up to the locked gate. “How am I supposed to get in now!?”

“Fuck you, Wayne! Eat the rich!” Jon hears the voice of a teenage girl protest followed by the pelting of something squishy.

The eight-year-old turns his head towards the sound to discover an older blonde girl who looks to be of high school age launching rotten tomatoes over the tall metal spikes of the top of the barrier. Her hair was, for a lack of a better term, big and incredibly frizzy yet not curly or wavy. Her clothes were simple but obviously well-worn as her acid-washed jeans and purple jacket had some significant tears in them.

A familiar impression in Jonathan’s subconscious fills the boy with an overwhelming sense of nostalgia. Another disorienting change of scenery later, Jonathan finds himself in the servant quarters of the manor he remembers staying in the night of Damian’s birthday. The tall teen rubs his eyes at the kitchen counter, trying to stay awake long enough to finish cooking his meal when a knock on the door causes him to drop the pan he was using. Thankfully it fell on the burner and not on the cracked tiled floor. The boy has already dropped and bent too many pans, he doesn’t need Tim to get on his ass about another one.

“Come in!” He orders, using a wooden spatula to flip the pancakes on the stainless steel.

The mahogany door opens with a creak, a thing Jonathan notes to fix later, and an older woman in her mid-twenties enters the chambers with a small smile. “Hey Jon, Tim and I are thinking about getting take-out. Do you want anything specific?”

Jonathan stares down his wonky-shaped pancakes as though they offended his ancestors. “Anything would be better than this.”

The woman shuffles herself behind the counter and takes a silver fork to plunder Jon’s efforts. “This isn’t bad! It looks worse than it tastes.”

Jon shrugs and turns off the stove. “I think Mr. Pennyworth’s cooking has spoiled me.”

The other’s expression falters but picks right back up before it could settle. She stomps to the hallways and braces herself on the doorframe, using a single cupped hand to project her voice. “TIM, GET IN HERE! OUR BABY NEEDS US!”

“Stephanie, I’m sixteen.” Jon reminds the blonde only to be violently shushed.

“I’m working!” Tim’s voice echoes back causing the woman to go scarily still.

She holds up a single finger to Jon, telling him to stay where he was, and stomps out of the room. Jon didn’t need to use his advanced hearing capabilities to hear his guardian and mentor getting his ass handed to him. Not even a minute later, Tim was dragged into the room by the arm like a scolded child and placed next to Jon. The three of them stand in the small kitchen together and Stephanie ties aprons around herself and Tim.

“You guys don’t have to help-”

“I need to prepare for the upcoming invasion-”

Jonathan and Tim are quelled by an intense glare from cerulean eyes and simultaneously whacked by wooden spoons. Both men towered over the dainty lady, yet in terms of intimidation, they have much to learn. “Come on, we all have some time between the chaos of our lives. We should spend it together.”

The unspoken, “While we still have the chance,” lingers in the air, and Tim sighs. The dark circles of his eyes crinkled into a grin as the man takes a hair tie from his wrist and puts his waist-long locks into a messy bun. “Okay, so what are we making?”

“Pancakes… I think? I mean they could also be waffles but I couldn’t find the waffle maker.” Jonathan describes, showing his adoptive parents his masterpiece in the skillet.

“Say no more!” Stephanie proclaims proudly, crouching down into one of the lower cabinets and pulling out the once lost waffle maker. She nudges Tim’s knee with her elbow as she picks herself up. “Aren’t you glad you married your bestie?”

“ _You_ married _me_ for tax benefits and health insurance. Don’t act live this is some true love shit.” He scoffs, rolling his eyes, and is met with another whack to the shoulder. “If you injure me before the mission, I’m benching you.”

“Spoiler alert-” Both males groan at the double meaning. “It’s not going to work in your favor.”

“Oh my gosh, you’re so lame- OW!” Jon yelps as he smacked on the head ignoring the fact that couldn’t hurt him.

“Kid, hey! Hey! Small child!” Someone calls out to Jonathan, shaking the boy frantically on the shoulder. “KID! Hello? Are you okay?”

The child grunts, rubbing his eyes and laments the fact that the collar he hated so much was also repressing his visions. Now that it’s gone he has to anticipate blackouts again. He prays to whatever god will listen that it won’t get in the way of his mission. Jon shakes his head and flutters his eyes as he’s brought back to his current situation.

“I’m fine, miss.” He reassures her as he focuses his sight on the peach-colored face uncomfortably close to his own. “Uh…”

“You were staring at me all weird and crap.” The girl describes, making a silly face that was supposed to mimic Jon’s. “I know I’m cute, but you’re a little young for me.”

“I have a boyfriend!” Jon blurts out with a hot blush rising up from his neck.

The blonde girl leans her weight on one leg and grins at the second-grader. “Well damn kid, you caught me spewing some heteronormative bullshi- crap. That’s my mistake. So what are you doin’ here of all places? You’re obviously not from Gotham.” She taps her finger on the Superman logo of Jonathan’s jacket. “You should go back to your parents.”

“I can’t,” Jon says simply. “I need to get into that house; The fate of the world depends on it.”

“Fate of the world, huh?” She chuckles and gives the child a once-over. “And why does the fate of the world depend on you getting to some rich guy’s house?”

Subconsciously, Jonathan fidgets with the camera around his neck trying to come up with an excuse that would make sense. This girl is real. She’s not an illusion or prop like all the older people in the world have been so far meaning she has to be a hero or the child of one. Maybe she’s the child of a villain, but that doesn't necessarily make her bad. Then again, she was throwing rotten fruit into Mr. Wayne’s yard and talking about eating people so she might be evil.

“I… My friends are inside and we were supposed to play today, but no one is answering the door. They could be in trouble.” Jonathan lies, trying to remember Tim’s lecture on half-truths. “What are you doing here?”

“Rebelling against the patriarchy.” She answers confidently. “I don’t hate Wayne personally or anything, but he’s a rich white guy who lives in a home built on a hill to look down on poor people. Also, rich guys are creepy; the man is definitely doing something shady.”

Jon has no idea what that has to do with anything but being Batman is sketchy in some sense of the word. Without spending more of his limited time on the conversation, Jonathan trots over to the fence and tries to squeeze through the bars of the fence. He doesn’t even make it halfway through before getting stuck. Mister Mxyzptlk must’ve reinforced the iron so that Jon wouldn’t be able to use his super-strength to topple the structure over.

Helplessly, the boy wiggles around in the fence trying to get out to no avail. He stops and looks at the teenager who is staring at Jon in disbelief. “Stephanie, I need help.”

“Yeah, I can see that.” She replies and braces one leg on the black metal for leverage and using both of her hands to pull Jon out. It takes a lot of effort, but eventually, she gets the eight-year-old free. “Kid, it’s not going to be easy to break in.”

“Stop calling me Kid. My name is Jonathan Samuel Kent, but that’s too long to say so you can call me Jon.” He drones out habitually, rubbing his shoulder.

“Jon, you’re going to have to try a bit harder if you want to get inside.” She says, examining the electric lock keeping the gate closed. “Here, slide your stuff through the rails and I’ll get you in.”

The skinny girl hooks her fingers together and lowers her body close to the ground. Hesitantly, Jonathan does what she says and backs up until he’s across the street again. Carefully he takes a running start, making sure he’s repressing his powers so as to not be blocked out by Mister Mxyzptlk’s barrier, and hops onto the teen’s palms. With a groan, Stephanie launches Jonathan backward and over the spiked fence, his back barely scraping the surface. 

His body flops onto the stone pavement of the other side and Jonathan stands up in time to have the high schooler land on top of him. The force of the larger body causes Jonathan back to the ground. “Woooo, I need to work on the landing.”

“You’re telling me,” Jon complains, his face smashed on the floor.

“Oops!” Stephanie quickly lifts Jonathan to his feet and hands him his stuff laying next to them. “You okay?”

“I’m fine.” He explains, taking the belongings he stole from Tim’s old house. “How did you get across? Why did you get across?”

“I climbed the fence and this seems like fun. Besides, you don’t really have a playdate.” She playfully accuses. “You need to work on your lying.”

Jon sighs as he looks up at the incredibly long winding path to the Wayne Manor. Experimentally Jonathan tries to use his strength to propel him forward but feels an invisible presence stopping him from doing so. Sitcoms care all about wacky hijinks and convenience, which means he can't rely on his powers to brute force his way through, but that doesn’t mean he can’t use his powers at all. “Stephanie, do you know how to ride a skateboard?”

“Heck yeah I do, but I’m not about to ride up the tallest hill in Gotham on one. We’re better off walking.” The blonde elaborates, pointing at the Robin-themed skateboard.

Jon places the skateboard on the pathway and looks at her expectantly. “You might not believe me or understand me, but the world really does depend on it.”

Stephanie ties her fluffy hair with a red elastic then shoves her hands into the pockets of her purple hoodie. “Alright, I’ll play along. What do you want me to do?”

The second-grader walks back to the gate and grabs the paper bag filled with rotten tomatoes that were leaning on the fence. He hands the girl the bag much to her confusion and gestures for her to get on the board. “This is going to sound crazy, but to save the world I’m going to need you to cause a lot of chaos. I don’t know how or if it’s even going to work but the weirder the better. You don’t have to worry about getting in trouble because if this works then-”

“Jon, say no more.” Stephanie interrupts with the most serious face he’s ever seen on her since they met not even thirty minutes ago. “My entire life has been building up to this very moment.”

“I didn’t even explain-”

“You don’t have to. You’re telling me I get to trash a billionaire’s home and honestly, I am living for it. My time has come.” She hops off the platform and climbs over the fence again, tossing aside the tomatoes like the trash it was. “Wait here, I’m going to get something better.”

Okay, Jon is a little bit scared now, but he’s not going to start complaining. Jonathan ends up waiting ten excruciating minutes and spends that time trying to balance on the skateboard himself. He doesn’t succeed. When the girl comes back, she hands Jonathan what appears to be two bright purple guns and goggles as she makes her way to him.

“I don’t want to kill anyone-” Jon begins to fear, seeing the weapons and Stephanie scoffs at the notion.

“No one is going to die. These are paintball guns and I’m using both of them.” She explains, taking one pair of the eye-protection on her and the other on Jonathan. “Now, are you getting on the board with me?”

“No, I’m going to push you super duper fast,” Jon answers sensibly even though what he was suggesting was impractical at best.

“Alright.” She readily agrees, hooking the large firearms under her armpits and situations herself on the skateboard. “You better get pushing, Jon. It’s a long way up.”

“Okay,” The child braces his hands on the female’s hips and prepares to start moving, but stops himself and looks up at her. “If this does work, we might crash through a wall. Don’t be scared because it probably won’t hurt.”

“I’ll take those chances.” She declares, unperturbed by the thought of bodily harm. “I always wanted to pull a Kool-Aid Man.”

Huh, Jonathan didn’t think of it like that. “That’d be so cool.”

“You know it! Let’s go!” Stephanie cheers, pumping her fists into the air.

Jonathan tests his powers again and finds his strength freely coursing through him. With his newly found confidence and partner in crime Jonathan propels the two of them forward with all of his might. The two of them instantly move at a hundred miles per hour and Jon does his best to keep the teenage girl upright.

“Holy shit!”

The boy doesn’t have time to reprimand Stephanie on her language as they make it to the front of Wayne Manor in seconds and smash their way into it half a second after that. The french doors of the mansion become nothing more than splinters of wood and Jonathan loses his hold on Stephanie.

The older girl, shaken but relatively unphased, looks at the main lobby of the home where the Wayne siblings were fighting on the couch over a TV remote. The seven of them stare at each other in tangible silence before Stephanie breaks it with a smirk. “OH YEAH! DOWN WITH THE RICH!”

**HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAH!**

After her warcry, she opens hot-pink fire into the unsuspecting crowd and flips ducks behind the sofa for cover. Jonathan meanwhile is trying to discover the source of all that disembodied laughing.

“What the heck is going on here?!” Dick shouts as he takes his sister into his arms for protection. Cass, meanwhile, shrugs and throws a decorative pillow at their attacker.

Damian, prone to the floor crawl on the floor to see what was happening and notices Jonathan turning around confused amidst the rubble. “JON!?”

Jonathan doesn’t answer as he grabs a piece of wood and feels that it’s made of styrofoam. No wonder that didn’t hurt. “This is getting weird, even for me.”

The moment he says that a gun is shoved into his arms. “It’s open range Jon, and we got unlimited ammo!”

“How did you manage that?” He questions as he shoots Jason in the back as he makes his way to the exit. Stephanie smiles wider in return and it does nothing to satiate Jonathan’s curiosity. “Oh well.” And he continues shooting anything and everything that moves. Even if it doesn’t move, he shoots. The two of them are painting the town pink and nothing is going to stop them!

Tim walks out of the kitchen entrance with a bag of chips and is greeted with the sight of Jon and Stephanie raging war against his family. “Whaaaaaaa-”

**HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAH!**

“Hi, Tim!” Jonathan waves as he shoots Cassandra in the thigh, signifying to him that this isn’t the real Cassandra. He remembers how she fought during the food fights and wouldn’t allow herself to get hit so easily. “Long story short, every child hero or child of a hero and villain are trapped in fake worlds that were created to be our perfect paradise. I broke free and challenged a reality-altering imp from the Fifth Dimension to a game with the safety of the universe at stake. Also, we’re on a TV show being watched by the Justice League of the entire multiverse including our parents!”

“That’s what this is about?!” Stephanie screams, firing rapidly at the crystal chandelier above them in surprise. “Fuck, you weren’t kidding about the fate of the world depending on this.”

“Wait- YOU UNDERSTAND ME!?” Jon screams, dropping his gun and being tackled by Damian in response.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” She gasps, offended at the unintentional accusation. “Of course I do! Everything makes so much sense now! Waiting in line stopped being a thing, reload meant nothing, and commutes became less than a few minutes! Do you know how weird that is in Gotham? The traffic here is terrible!”

**HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAH!**

“The lack of any real authority figure didn’t tip you off?” Tim screeches irritatedly, throwing the bag of chips at the girl.

“Bitch, my dad’s in jail and my mom’s in rehab for an opioid addiction! I’m used to not seeing authority!” She tells him before shooting him in the gut.

“Stephanie, what the fuck!?” The fifteen-year-old asks, holding his stomach.

“Why do people keep knowing my name without me introducing myself?” He mutters, pointing her gun at Damian. “Let the boy go! I’ve only known Jon for less than an hour, but if anything happens to him I’ll kill everyone in this room and then myself!”

**AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAWWW!**

“Okay, is it just me or does anyone else hear an audience?”

“Wait, this is my boyfriend!” Jon cries the barrel of the paint gun being pointed at them.

Damian takes his gun and fires it at the blonde and his older brother, “I don’t know what kind of tomfoolery this is-”

“Who even says that?”

“But how dare you drag Jonathan into it!” The ten-year-old finishes, picking Jon off the floor.

The youngest boy stares at Damian solemnly and asks, “Damian, do you know where we are?”

“In my manor! Jonathan, if Pennyworth comes home to this he’ll have our heads!” He hollers, causing everyone to freeze and the Wayne sibling, minus Tim, to panic. “And then we’ll be grounded from going to the amusement park!”

**OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!**

“That is seriously annoying,” Stephanie mentions as Jason shoves a wet mop into her hands. “Um… What?”

“You caused this mess, you help clean it up or Alfred is going to ground us to high hell!” The teal-eyed man responds as he uses his own mop on the walls.

Then suddenly everyone had a cleaning instrument of some kind and were furiously working on getting the ruined living room spotless. Jon rubs the same spot on the floor with a dry sponge in an unprogressive circular motion that somehow cleans the area. The child’s eyes wander to his boyfriend and is disappointed by the turn of events.

Currently, Dick is holding Damian over the third-floor railing so that he can clean the hanging chandelier. Jon sighs, seeing that the other is still trapped in the illusion. The boy takes his list out of his pocket and metally checks off Tim from the list. Logically speaking he should go after Colin next because he’s listed as the second easiest to free, but he doesn’t even know where to begin. Colin doesn’t have a show on the TV-Guide!

**WOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!**

At the invisible’s audience cheering Jon turns his head to the newly fixed door and sees none other than Colin walk through the door without even a knock. “Hey everyone- Woah. What happened here?” Taken aback by the disastrous sight, the redhead scans the room and everyone points their finger at Jon.

“Jon did it.” They all say simultaneously.

**HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAH!**

“Oh, Jon.” Colin snorts and flippantly rolls his eyes with a jolly grin. “I guess I’ll help.”

**HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAH!**

That laugh track is starting to grate on Jon's nerves as he silently continues to clean the floors. It’s nice that Colin’s here, but Jon doesn’t even know where to begin on freeing him. What is the other’s perfect reality? What is Colin experiencing that Jon’s not understanding?

The eight-year-old begins to walk to Stephanie and Tim, who were put on window duty, when a hand on his shoulder stops him from moving. He cranes his neck back to find Damian glowering at him which is weird because Jonathan could swear he was several floors above him. “Where do you think you’re going?”

“I need to talk to Tim and Stephanie.” He tells him and tries to move forward again but the young Wayne isn’t budging. “Dami, let go.”

“No, you’re not,” Damian tells him, dragging Jonathan away with the help of Colin. “She got you into this mess and I refuse to let her corrupt your mind more.”

“You won’t let me.” Jonathan hisses, digging his heels into the wooden floors. “YOU WON’T LET ME!?”

“Oh no, here we go again.” Colin sighs, practically hearing the taunted string that’s Jonathan’s temper snap.

**HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAH!**

“Oh yes, we’re definitely doing this again!” The caped second-grader screams, twirling around and looking his boyfriend in the eye. “You’re my boyfriend, you’re supposed to be on my side!”

“I’m not your boyfriend, I’m your fiance!” Damian argues getting up into Jonathan’s face. “And that is why I’m stopping you! You always have some crazy impulse you don’t think about and everyone gets dragged into it! You need to stop putting everyone in danger just because you don’t have the two cents to think things through!”

“Are you seriously blaming me for all the crap that happens to us! Half the reason we get into situations is that you think you know what’s best for me! I mess up, so do you! Don’t go acting like you have any authority over me! If I wanted you to be my daddy you’ll be the first to know; you already have an adoption problem!”

Damian’s face goes scarlet at the accusation and jabs his finger into Jonathan’s chest. “I might have an adoption problem-”

“You clearly have an adoption problem.” Jonathan spits, shoving Damian off him.

“But it’s better than a common-sense problem!” He finishes, pushing Jon back. “I keep telling you to know your limits and your brain is limited! Why won’t you listen to people when they try to help you? Do you honestly believe your feeble callow childish mind is any competition for those with experience!? You think that you’re good or that just because everything turns out fine no one got hurt! News flash asshole, you’re a selfish hypocrite and we’re not fine-”

“I KNOW!” Jonathan cries, veins and eyes glowing gold. “I KNOW! I KNOW THAT MORE THAN ANYBODY! Do you- Do you even know me!? I know you’re not fine! No one is fine! Don’t you dare- YOU! Don’t you even dare! You don’t get to lecture me about how I ruin everything because I tell that to myself every day! EVERYDAY! I have to wake up to the sight of me every day and live with myself! I’m the reason your medicated, I’m the reason you sold yourself to some disgusting old rich people, I’m the reason you decided to go home, I’m the reason you don’t have a mom anymore, I’m the reason- I’m the reason we’re in this mess and that your life is in danger again. Y-you don’t even know. You can’t even understand me because if you did you wouldn’t be saying this to me.” The boy sobs, tears falling down his face.

“You didn’t let me finish.” Damian breaths, taking the crying boy in his arms and not getting hurt due to Mister Mxyzptlk’s immunity. “We’re not fine because we care about you. We don’t want to keep seeing you recklessly put yourself in danger because when you hurt so do we.”

Jonathan wipes the endless river pouring out of his eyes with his sleeve, but all he gets for his troubles is a burn mark on the cotton. “That can’t be true because you’re still stuck in this illusion. I can see it in your empty eyes. You don’t know what I’m talking about. I didn’t want to tell you because you’re always worrying about me and you always think you know what’s best for me. Maybe you do, you know everything, but you never know how I’m feeling even when I’m screaming it in your face. How are you able to love me so much, how does anybody and everybody love me so much, when I hate myself? I want you all to myself and hate that you’re making friends who are not me. I’m scared that you’ll leave me once you get over the trauma that’s keeping you close to me because you’re better than me. You don’t need me. After all, you’re so much better than me because you try to be a better person! I want everything good to happen for you, but want to hold you back. I'm the worst. I want you by my side because I can’t stand to live in a world without you. I’m selfish enough that I given the chance I’d kill myself so that I wouldn’t have to see you go first. 

“I know that’s wrong, I know my family wouldn’t want that, and I know it makes me horrible, but I don’t care. If I weren’t my parents’ son I know they’d never want me in their lives because I’m too much trouble. They want an obedient normal son that they can dote on and don’t have to worry about. Neither of you would have to protect me if I didn’t stick my dumb nose into problems that aren’t mine. I’m not going to be that boy, I’m never going to be that boy because I already grew up into someone who isn’t that. I’m doing it all over again. I don’t want to be like this! I’m not even a good weapon, the reason you wanted me in the first place. I just want to be everything you need me to be, but I don’t know that that is.”

Jonathan could almost swear he felt Damian hold him tighter and he looks into those gem-cut green eyes to see some semblance of the boy he knows and loves in there somewhere, but it’s quickly snuffed out and replaced with a stranger wearing his skin. The half-human cries into the polyester of Damian’s black turtleneck because he knew that wasn’t going to work. He’s not enough to bring Damian back to reality. Damian doesn’t love him enough to come back just for him because Jonathan is never enough. “I should have known…”

**[TIME ADDED TO CLOCK]**

“I hate you so much,” Jonathan mumbles at the text that enters his line of sight before quickly disappearing. “I really, really hate you.”

“Happy to hear it.” Damian replies, not knowing what he’s talking about and Jonathan has a good mind to headbutt him. “If you’re done with your outburst, we should finish cleaning up. We’ll all hang out in my room later and play videogames later!”

“What the fuck were those letters!” He hears Stephanie shout from the top of a ladder before falling. 

Jon feels himself being pried out of Damian’s arms and up into Tim’s as he holds the sniffling child. Tim strokes his hair softly and looks down at this little brother who’s not quite himself. If his sibling were truly cognizant, then he would have never let Tim take him or not do anything. He only sees the boy glare at him with adolescent jealousy when their favorite toy is taken away.

In this world, right now, his family was normal. No capes and mask, just children in a house. No expectations, no pressure, and no dangers. It would have been a nice life. It would have been perfect, but right away Timothy knew it wasn’t the life he was meant to live. This was not his normal and he didn’t want it to be. He liked his crazy family, he wanted his crazy home back, and he was going to get it back no matter what.

“Go play with Colin, I’ll take care of Jon.”

“Jonathan is my responsibility.” Damian snarls, gripping the boy’s leg. “He’s my fiance.”

“And he’s my son.” He says, knowing that the ten-year-old as he was now wouldn’t know what he was talking about. It was true, though. Tim should have never been put in charge of a child for a day let alone a lifetime, but that’s what happened. Timothy would never take Jon’s parent’s place, especially now that they’re alive and doing their best, but right now there were no adults to take care of them.

He rips Jonathan away so he can calm the child down before he goes supernova on all of them, however, a weight on his neck yanks him backward. Thanks to his training the teen managed not to fall or drop the nuclear bomb in his hands. Royal blue eyes see Damian with a broken mop handle and aiming for his eye socket. Before the teen could do anything, another figure tackles the boy off of him.

It’s reassuring to know that his brother is still in there somewhere.

“Woah, Dami, what the hell man?” Colin shouts, pinning the shorter boy to the floor.

“That’s my name…” Jon whimpers as he tries to regain command over his emotions. “I’m not going to blow up, I can control it. Just give me a chance and I’ll control it.”

Bouncing Jonathan’s body up and down, Tim whispers reassuring words into Jonathan’s ears. “I know you can. You got this. This doesn’t make you a bad person, you’re simply letting yourself feel.”

“Don’t take it away from me; I need to hear him. I want to hear that he’s still okay.”

“No one is going to take your powers away from you again. Do you hear me? You can control it.” He tells him as Stephanie walks up to them with a bucket of water on her head.

“So are you going to explain what’s going on or do I have to figure it out on my own?” The blonde demands, pointing at the glowing veins on Jonathan’s body.

Tim takes in a deep breath and looks at the shorter teen tiredly. “He’s the son of Superman.”

Cerulean eyes blink and she purses her lips. “That explains the powers and clothes, but what was all that stuff earlier? Is he okay?”

“We’re all the children of superheroes and villains. Were any of us ever going to be okay?” He challenges, watching the other’s reaction.

She sighs with a look of understanding. “No, I guess not. So who’s kid are you? Nightwing?”

“Batman.” He answers easily because what’s the point of a secret identity in a world none of it mattered. Even if they’re being broadcasted for the multiverse to see it was the Justice League.

“Oof.” Stephanie winces.

“Big Oof.” Tim agrees.

“I’m not the kid of a hero or villain,” Colin says aloud startling the three people and they all look down at the cheerful boy, no longer pressing his friend onto the floor.

Jonathan blinks, eyes still glowing with emotion. “Colin?”

“What is it, Jon?” The ten-year-old redhead inquires with a bright smile.

Okay, Colin was a much cheerier person than Jonathan remembers or he’s still not completely there. “Uh… you can hear us?”

Baby blue eyes blink up at the boy in confusion. “I don’t see why I wouldn’t! I’m right here and if you wanted to keep a secret then you should talk softer.”

“I… I need to make sure.” Jon clarifies, remembering what Tim did for him. “I want you to repeat after me: We’re stuck in a fake world created by a magic fairy man and are on a TV show. None of this is real.”

With a more positive tone, Colin flawlessly repeats, “We’re stuck in a fake world created by a magic fairy man and are on a TV show. None of this is real.” He turns to Damian, who is left confused on the floor as the memories of what he tried to do vanish, and says. “Jon sure does say some funny stuff!”

“What the frick?” The little boy gasps as it’s clear that Colin isn’t fully there, but he can hear everything they’re saying. He looks up at Tim who is equally as puzzled as Jon was. “Tim, what the frick?”

“I think he’s starting to break out of it, just like you were,” Tim informs, putting Jon down as the light finally subsides from his body. “He just needs that last push to break free! Did you ever find out exactly what you had to do to remember reality?”

“I killed myself,” Jonathan tells him casually. “And from what Mister Mxyzptlk told me so did you and someone else who got free, but he gave us invincibility or something so we can’t do that anymore.”

“Who?” Tim asks, skimming over the fact an eight-year-old was telling him about suicide.

“I thought you already met him.” The boy says, confusing the man even further. “Then again, he probably erased your memories of that. He’s the guy who trapped us all in here. Another Dami who’s older and is Batman told me if you say you make him say his name backward he’s defeated. Also, Dami grows up to be even prettier. That’s nice to know.”

The teen takes a deep breath and pinches the bridge of his nose. “Oh my god Jon, someone needs to teach you about how to focus on important details.”

“Nah, I think these are the right details to be paying attention to.” Stephanie chuckles, ruffling the boy’s hair. “We all have the right to be thirsty for a tall drink of water no matter the dire situation.”

“Can you not?”

“Plus, he did remember a way to defeat Mister Mix… However the fuck you’re supposed to say that.” She adds.

“He’s not even here so we couldn't even try to figure a way to do that.” Tim points out tiredly. “And seeing that battle-royale-ing ourselves is out of the question we need to come together to find what got us cognizant in the first place.”

Stephanie tilts her head and places her knuckles under her chin thoughtfully as she does her best to recall when she first felt something off with the world. “For me, I think it was when Dean stopped being an ass to me.”

“Who’s Dean?” Jon presses, looking up at the girl.

“My loser boyfriend.” She readily answers with no ounce of remorse. “Maybe he's an ex-boyfriend now. If I’m stuck in some weird pocket dimension then he’s probably out there cheating on me or creeping out other girls!”

“That’s bad.”

“It is bad, don’t be me. If you got a boyfriend who doesn’t have the fucking decency to respect you then you should dump his ass to the next millennia no matter how lonely you might be! Get some good standards.” Stephanie preaches, shaking Jonathan’s shoulder’s wildly, perplexing the boy greatly. “No is always an option and being single is fucking amazing!”

“It’s way too late to warn you about language, isn’t it.” Tim groans, running his hands down his face.

**HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAH!**

“Oh come on! I thought we got rid of that!”

“How about you Jon, when did you start feeling something was off?” The blonde asks, watching Colin and Damian stare up at them with puzzled expressions.

Jon thinks about it for a few seconds before saying, “I think I was always fighting the illusion, but I broke out when Damian called me his friend. We are friends, but I know we couldn’t just be that. Some part of me was yelling at myself to remember everything we’ve been through. In the middle of it I… I saw how Damian didn’t know what I was talking about. It was like I was losing him all over again and I couldn’t take it. So I thought, ‘If I try dying I either find a way out of this like I always do or die before I see him lost to me forever.’”

The two teens share a look of shock and pity for the young boy before Tim pushes onward. “I’m sorry you had to go through that. You should have never been stuck in that kid’s show.”

“I mean… a gay awakening is a valid option.”

“Stephanie.” Tim scolds, slapping his forehead.

“Oh, I’m sorry but what in the Hell am I supposed to say that!? Sorry, the censors hate LGBTQ+ and caused a mental breakdown?”

“That is not what that was!”

“That’s totally what it sounds like.” She rebuttals confidently. “So how about you Silver Spoon, what broke you out of this dreamworld?”

The pale teen gazes at the two with a neutral expression. “Well… I don’t want to say.”

“Tim, that’s not fair.” Jon huffs, kicking Tim in the shin. “We told you, now you have to tell us!”

“No, you’re going to make fun of me.”

“No, I won’t!” Jon tells him honestly.

“I’m not talking about you.” Tim corrects, pointing at the fellow teenager. “I’m talking about her.”

Jonathan looks to the girl who at least has the decency to adverts her eyes. “... I mean… It depends, but you still have to tell us. I won’t bust your butt or anything, we just met.”

The young vigilante sighs, rubbing his eyes. “Alright. I saw Kon and he tried to kiss me and I panicked. Then I jumped off the roof of Wayne Tower because that couldn’t be real. After all, my Kon doesn’t exist which meant that this world wasn’t real.”

Welp… That explains why Conner’s not here.

The room is silent for a moment before Stephanie claps her hands together and takes in the deepest of breaths, chest expanding to its limits, pointing her fingers between the two males. “So, what I’m hearing is that we gotta induce a gay panic of epic proportions to save the day.”

“Stephanie no!” Tim bemoans, covering his scarlet face. “That is not what we have to do!”

“I dunno, it sure sounds like it.”

“That doesn’t include you so there’s no way that could be the method used to free us!”

Jon contemplates the three stories, trying to find the one thing they all had in common. “Maybe it does have to do with something about boyfriends.”

“Jon, no.” Tim shoots down instantly with a bit too much authority in his tone. “Correlation doesn’t equal causation and I refuse this conclusion!”

“That just sounds like denial.” Stephanie teases, poking the lean teen in the ribs. “If you don’t have any better options then we’re going with gay panic. Jon, go kiss your redhead friend-"

“OH HELL NO!” The taller teenager exclaims, holding an arm out to block Jonathan who wasn’t going to do that. At the same time, Damian pushed Colin behind him because although the two boys didn’t understand what was going on, they understood that. “WE ARE NOT DOING THAT! Not only are we not going to push that onto children, but it doesn’t make logical sense! Plus our parents are watching!”

“We’re stuck in a TV show by a fairy-imp man whose name is a point lost in Scrabble, and you want to talk about sense?!”

Jonathan takes his list out of his pocket and checks it for clues. “This is a TV-Guide that is supposed to have our perfect worlds listed. To win the game, I’m supposed to set them free by making them reject it, but for some reason, Colin doesn’t have one. How am I supposed to break Colin free of his perfect world if he doesn’t have one! On the list, it says he should be the second easiest but I’m stuck!”

“He doesn’t have a show?” Tim asks, taking the list from Jonathan.

“There’s a tier list for this?” Stephanie follows, leaning over to read.

“Jon, he doesn’t have a show.” The older boy tells him as though Jonathan didn’t just say so himself.

“I know,” Jon replies in a monotone, not understanding why his words are being repeated to him. “And it’s weird. Colin has to have a world he wants because there’s so much he wants. He was looking for his mom, experimented on by the Halloween ruiner, and we met in a fighting ring where they sold people. That’s a lot of bad stuff for someone to go through and not have a perfect world they wish for. Kathy has a world, so it’s not fair Colin doesn’t. Maybe Mister Mxyzptlk made a mistake and forgot to make one.”

“No, Jon, it’s not a mistake, it’s a clue!” Tim corrects handing him back his list. “Colin doesn’t have a show because he’s too busy cameoing in ours! He’s like the Stan Lee of our worlds! Neither of us knows Colin, but you do! You have to think Jon; why wouldn’t he want a world of his own?”

The son of Superman, surprised by the realization, goes to the couch to sit down, only somewhat noting the odd plastic texture of the fake furniture. Jonathan does his best to recall everything he knows about his usually pragmatic pal and wonders why Colin would rather live through everybody else’s dreams rather than fulfill his own. At first, it doesn’t make any sense until Jonathan goes back to before their first meeting.

Colin Wilkes is a child who went through something devastating, being experimented on by Scarecrow and didn’t linger on that trauma. Instead, and naively, Colin’s first thought was to become a vigilante and try to help people. Unfortunately, the adults in charge of protecting him sold him to Roulette instead. There, Colin fought every day for months because the punishment for failure was to be sold off to the highest bidder. 

At least that was his life until Jonathan came by and turned his world on its head. Colin, who fought so hard for his life, didn’t want to hurt Jon. He begged Jonathan to stay down not only for his safety but so Colin wouldn’t be shipped off to the auction. Except, Jon didn’t quit so instead of showing Jonathan off as defective or weak, he sacrificed himself. Jon didn’t know it at the time, but after Damian forfeited he was put up for sale. The same would have most likely happened to Colin after he healed.

Colin, after Jon tore his body apart to break free, caringly cleaned his face of blood and said to him, “You are way too young to have blood on your hands let alone blood on your face.” Which meant that, in reverse, Colin would rather it be him than Jon to hurt himself to get free.

The older boy wasn’t going to leave Jonathan alone in the warehouse, so Jonathan forced him to. He wasn’t going to leave him because Colin is a good person even after the horrible life bestowed upon him. No matter the craziness the fifth-grader was dragged into, he never left anyone behind. He never abandoned anyone.

Colin simply… He simply went along with everything. Sure, he complained to hell and back, but he never stopped anyone from doing something. He threatened to if someone’s life was in danger, but he never went through with it. Whether it was following Jonathan onto a supervillain ninja island or being strung along by Damian all around Gotham saving animals Colin simply accepted it.

First, he was dragged through the foster system, then followed the orders of Roulette, later he bent to Jonathan’s whims, after that he was forced to follow Damian’s orders and heck the boy even acted as a consular for him! That shouldn’t have been his responsibility! Colin Wilkes didn’t have a world because outside of everyone else there was no Colin. That’s Colin’s reality; the reality he’s stuck in and the only one he’s ever known.

A sense of guilt overwhelms Jonathan as he recalls their past together and is now aware that not once has he ever asked Colin what he wanted. He never took Colin’s opinion into account. He’s never taken the time to know Colin for who he was and just accepted his presence for what it is, a presence and nothing more. 

A friend Jon has taken for granted.

He looks back to the boy who is currently helping Damian clean the floors with Jonathan’s discarded sponge with a frown. All this time, Colin has been so good to him and what did he get in return? What did Jon give him? Unearned resentment and a life of being stuck in the middle of other’s problems.

Here Colin was again, stuck in another problem Jon caused merely for the crime of being his friend.

“I… I know what to do.” Jon quietly announces under his breath.

Tim and Stephanie back away from Jonathan as he makes his way to Colin, filled with anticipation and waiting to see what the second-grader was going to try. The denim-clad boy kneels down to the floor and smiles tenderly at the older boy who’s white shirt is now stained pink from cleaning the paint. “Hey Colin!”

“Hey Jon! Are you done doing all that weird stuff?” Colin questions excitedly. “If you want a kiss, I’m not going to give you one.”

“Over my dead body, Jon is.” Damian grunts with a scowl.

**HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAH!**

“Nope!” Jonathan shakes his head. “What do you want to do after we get the mansion cleaned up?”

“Dami said we’d get to play videogames-”

“I didn’t ask what Dami said we were going to do. I asked what you want to do.” The eight-year-old defines, repressing his unwarned jealousy.

Colin shugs. “I’m fine with doing whatever you guys want. I’m not that picky.”

“I’m asking you to be picky.” Jon practically begs, already on his knees.

“Yeah Colin, if you want to do something different we wouldn’t be opposed to it.” Damian contributes, ringing his sponge in a bucket of water.

The redhead laughs them off nervously. “It’s fine you guys. Seriously, I’m so indecisive that if I were to decide it’d take forever.”

“Then we’ll wait forever,” Jonathan tells him, gripping the boy by the shoulder. “Whatever you want I’ll do. Whatever you tell me, I’ll listen. I know I haven’t ever listened to you in the past, but I know I was wrong now. What you want and say is important not only because you’re my friend, but because you matter.”

**AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAWWW!**

“Wow Jon, there’s no need to get so sentimental on me.” He responds, but his voice was starting to crack from the upbeat tone the TV show has given him and leaks a nervous cadence. “It’s fine-”

“It’s not fine!” Jon shouts, forcibly turning the boy towards him and shaking him violently. “IT’S NOT FINE! Do something with your life! Stop accepting what’s handed to you, stop following orders, stop not being bothered by how we treat you, stop wasting your life for others! Get mad, get glad, give orders, expect something from us, just stop doing what you have been; stop being okay with everything!”

Savagely, Jonathan is thrust back by his friend and he’s met with an enraged glare. “Who said I was okay with everything! Do you even know the SHIT you put me through!?”

“Yes!” The Kryptonian hybrid emits victorious jumping to his feet. “Yes! Tell me! What did I do!?”

“Okay fucking Einstein, I’ll tell you!? You’re a little brat who I had to watch fucking vore yourself on a dank ass hospital bed! You fucking traumatized me by making me think that I left you alone in a child-raping human trafficking ring! I nearly got disintegrated by the worst kind of Mountain Dew so that your boyfriend doesn’t get lobotomized! I dealt with your entire gay awakening which is more painful than getting stabbed. I got shot to death by a Luthor mech to protect you under the pressure of your fucking fiance wanting to kill me if I didn’t! I have to walk on eggshells around you because you think I want to steal the psychopath you fell in love with! I have to suffer both of your guys’ inept pining asses when you’re already dating! I constantly have to work through the trash Minecraft server that is your line of logic and somehow not go crazy because you never explain yourself properly! I don’t want to be your fucking therapist when you already have one!”

“And what do you want me to do about that?!” Jonathan gleams happily at the stream of insults pouring from Colin. “Tell me what you want!”

A vein twitches on the boy’s forehead at the other’s positively annoying demeanor. “What I want!? WHAT DO I WANT!? I want you to look around you for once in your life and realize that there’s a world outside of your bullshit!”

“But what do you want!”

“I want to go home!” Colin screams, stomping his foot on the ground. “I just want to go home! I want to go home, eat all the ice cream in Mr. Gordon’s freezer and pass out for the next year! I want to do fucking nothing cause I’m tired!”

“Honestly, same.” Stephine agrees, nodding her head.

“Who the fuck are you!?” The redhead shouts, holding his head. “Wait- where the hell is this?!”

“COLIN! You’re back!” Jonathan cries, hugging his friend tightly. “Colin, I’m sorry. I’m sorry for everything I’ve ever done. I’ll be a better friend from now on.”

**AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAWWW!**

“Jesus fuck Jonathan, where the hell are we? Is this… Oh my god, we’re on a sitcom.” Colin gasps prying the younger boy off of him.

“How did you figure that out so fast?” Tim questions the now mentally free elementary schooler.

“You mean besides the creepy voices?” The ten-year-old returns with a dull expression. “The lack of a fourth wall.”

The other three glance towards where Colin’s pale eyes were directing and indeed there was no wall on the west side of the manor. All that greeted them was a screen of TV static. With a thick raised bow, Jon asks, “How did none of us see that before?”

 **[UP NEXT:** **_JOY_ ** **! Starring Connor Alexander Luthor and Lena Luthor II]**

“Jon, you have a lot of explaining to do,” Colin tells him as the world begins to fade to black around them.

“Everybody hold on to each other so we don’t get separated,” Tim commands, immediately grabbing onto Stephanie and Jon.

The blonde teenager nods her head, finally taking off her goggles, and grabbing Colin who is still being hugged to death by Jon. “Yeah, and neither of you told me how you already knew my name when I wasn’t on the list.”

“I’ll explain during the commercial break,” Jonathan answers, holding Colin tighter as the _It’s Always Cloudy in Gotham_ ends and the world goes dark.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't know if it's obvious yet but I fucking hate myself... like, a lot. I write what I know and what I know is self-destructive. All my life ever since I was young I hated myself and now I hate the person I grew up into. I try to be better, but self-improvement is a hard thing to do when it's so much easier to be a selfish asshole. I want to say I've gotten better, but I shouldn't be the one to make that call. I'm not looking for any pity or sympathy so please don't tell me I'm a good person or something. You're all very nice, but it's not what I want to hear.
> 
> Another thing about this chapter is Colin. I don't remember if anyone ever called me out on my treatment of him, but they should cause I purposefully made it terrible. Why do I know it's terrible? Because I used to treat people how I treat Colin; just using them and expecting them to go along with it. I've lost many friends because of this and I also cut people out for doing the same to me. It's also how some of us feel, that we simply let ourselves get brushed over to keep the peace or not cause any trouble. This entire fic I made it so Colin was forcible dragged by the plot and made light of his own suffering. He's a side character in his own story. In my life I've been Jon, who ignored Colin but expected him to be there, I've been Colin who complained but didn't do anything to change his situation, and now I want to say I'm the new Jon who will take Colin's feelings into considerations because they're a person who matters and I'm a friend that cares. Except I don't know that. COVID and quarantine is a real bitch and I haven't seen my friends in a long time. This time and writing this fic is something I used as a self-reflection of sorts because I'm only human. I'm a human with problems and a creative outlet.
> 
> In a way, that's what this arc is really about in a personal sense. Every main character I gave a part of myself that I'm unraveling before me and taking a critical look at. Whether it hits or misses is your opinion and that's valid. It helps me and that's all that matters in the long run, but if you guys enjoy this it's an added bonus of bringing joy into other's lives. IDK what good storytelling as you can see this is the first fic that I ever published, but I hope I'm doing well.
> 
> Here's a fun game; name the main problems with all the people on Jonathan's list (Jon included). I know we just did Colin so that's a freebie. IDK, I just want to see if I wrote the story well enough for people to point out the direction of their character flaws and arc. You don't have to cause it's long and commenting takes energy.
> 
> That out of the way, Stephine is here! You might have caught mention of her in an earlier chapter and that was intentional. The collar is gone, the visions are back, and the stakes are high! The plot is thickening while also ending! 🙃 Jonathan's breakdown has some parallels with Damian’s breakdown from earlier in the story. They're more alike than they think but still extremely different.
> 
> Let's see if they can get through the next chapter (s?) Also, I like to imagine their parents reactions through all this cause its hilarious and sad. The entire justice league are next to the TV looking after the kids probably scream, "Jon no!"
> 
> Whew, if you made it through thanks for reading, and see you next time who knows when!
> 
> Next chapter: Can anyone say Jukebox Musical?


	49. Renegade

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The world Conner created is nothing like Jonathan expected. It appears that there will be more obstacles than themselves that they have to fight. Luckily for them, their gain one unlikely ally in their struggle.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey! I back! I keep having these unplanned breaks. Usually, it's something personal or I'm busy, but Nah. Not this time. this time it was an act of God stopping me and her name is Texas freezing over causing a fuck ton of problems. (For those that didn't figure it out I live in Texas). I'm okay, and everything is fixed now for the most part but it's been a weird few weeks. Anyways, I'm back and hopefully won't take as long next time. Thank you for reading and enjoy the chapter!

The compact classroom silent except for the scratching of chalk on a black slate surface softly echoing in the background. Three students sit at the front row of seats with varying degrees of interest and understanding as the material is written on the board. Their lecturer was silent as he stood on the tips of his toes trying to reach new heights on the chalkboard that haven’t been touched yet. The teacher stuck his tongue out the side of his mouth as he did his best to make everything in his mind legible on the board, sweat dripping down the side of his forehead with how hard he was thinking.

The redheaded student leans to his left and whispers to his neighbor, “Who wants to tell him?”

A blonde girl pops the pink gum in her mouth, an object she pilfered from a random schoolbag that occupied her seat, and shushes the ten-year-old. “Shh! Don’t you even dare, he’s trying his best!”

“I can’t take it anymore!” The older boy to the girl’s left groans, covering his royal blue eyes in shame. “Jonathan Samuel Kent, what am I looking at!?”

The child stops his writing with a jolt and almost bites his tongue in the process as he’s taken out of his zone of concentration. He takes a large step back and tilts his head as he ponders what the problem with his work could possibly be. Jon scratches his fluffy hair then shrugs seeing no problem. “It’s everything we know so far! If I don’t write everything down I’m going to forget it. That’s what you wanted me to do; Write everything I know down so that we’re all on the same page and there’s no misunderstanding!”

“I know what I said,” Tim sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose roughly. “The issue is-”

“None of us can read what you’re writing!” Colin shouts, standing from his seat and storming up to the blackboard. He slaps his palms on the surface next to one of the younger’s odd chalk creations. “What is this!? This isn’t even a word!”

Jonathan frowns and thumps his foot like an offended rabbit. “It’s Mister Mxyzptlk! I had to draw him because I can’t spell his name! He showed me how to spell it but it’s weird and I don’t remember.”

“And this?” He presses, pointing his finger at an image of what Colin could only guess is a dinosaur on a unicycle.

“That’s Stephaine riding a skateboard,” Jon emphasizes his point as he holds up said skateboard in his arms. 

The girl herself begins sputtering at her depiction and shoots up from her plastic desk. “How!?”

The eight-year-old gestures to the spikes on the drawing and says, “That’s your hair.”

Timothy picks up the notebook he was taking notes in and heads to the front of the classroom. He taps the boy lightly on the shoulder with the looseleaf causing him to begrudgingly trudge back to his seat. “Okay, I think I can figure out the rest from here.”

“You can?” Colin questions skeptically as he sits back down at his desk.

“I wasn't an alternate timeline/reality Batman for nothing. I was the world’s second greatest detective.” He tells him nonchalantly while picking up a fresh piece of white chalk.

Stephanie snorts loudly and teases, “Second?”

“To humans, I might as well have been the greatest but no one, and I mean no one, bests Detective Chimp.” Tim elaborates with a sense of certainty and respect.

Something in Jonathan’s mind clicks as he instantly recalls the monkey dressed like Sherlock Holmes he met at a bar. “I know him! He’s a monkey I met at the Oblivion bar!”

Three sets of eyes snap towards him in confusion except for Tim who mostly looked resigned and tired. Colin, more used to Jonathan than anyone else in the room, is the first to speak. “Ignoring the fact there’s apparently a detective monkey in the world, why were you at a bar?”

“Oh, that?” Jon says casually. “Yeah, when I froze myself to death I thought I went to a bad place and was kinda upset about it. So I thought really super-duper hard and Zatana said I ariel project to the Oblivion bar.”

“It’s called an astral projection, and WHY DIDN’T YOU TELL ANYONE!?” Tim hollers hysterically.

“Wait you died?” Stephine questions concerningly. “I mean you did say you did that before but I thought this was a one-time thing. How many times have you died?”

“I dunno.” Jon shrugs, unphased. “I mean I could guess but Dami was there for all of the times I died so he knows.”

“That boy needs so much therapy it’s horrifying.” The oldest teen exhales under his breath before powerfully clapping his hands together once. “OKAY, anyways. That might be a good thing. Jon, I’m trusting that you know what to do cause we probably don’t have much time since we’re being watched.”

“Wait-”

“Remember to wish with all your heart,” Tim commands. “B, I’m sending him your way so you better be there to track him back!”

“What is he doing?” Colin questions only to be immediately answered as Tim picks up the camera Jon bright with him and breaks it over his knee. Instead of having film inside of it, a small black and red box falls out.

Tim looks at the child with a crazy grin. “You’re about to learn why I should never be a parent. Cover your eyes and ears.”

With a perfect baseball pitching form, the fifteen-year-old launches the object directly at Jonathan’s forehead. The half-human doesn’t dodge as he expected something like this to have happened to him. He blacks out and the second he has some semblance of thought he begins to plead with himself, anybody, the universe, that whatever it works. He desperately prays to any god out there that he ends up where he needs to be.

“GET THE SCANNER ON HIM!”

“Zatanna, how much time can you buy us?!”

“I don’t know but he’s already being pulled back! I’m doing all I can to keep him here!”

“Bring in the TV, we have to see the other side!”

That worked better than Jon thought it would. He was sure something else would happen but it’s nice when things go according to plan. Sky blue eyes open to be met with the sight of an unfamiliar wood and glass chandelier. The next thing he knows there are dozens of adults descending upon him. None of them can touch him since their hands phase through him, but they can all see him so that’s nice.

Jon stands himself up at the same time Batman sticks something on the back of his neck which is an odd feeling seeing as he’s not really there. “What is this? Where’s Detective Chimp?” He scans the area and notices Batgirl and Green Lantern, Hal Jordan, waving metallic scanners over his body. “Where are my parents?”

“We’re right here sweetheart.” The eight-year-old hears his mom say and he spins on his heels to see both his mother and father running up to him through a portal. They try to hold him in their arms but it was no use as they’re just like everyone else who tried. “Jonathan, oh Jonathan sweetie, we’re so sorry.”

“Jon,” Superman shudders, putting himself as close to his child as possible. “We love you more than anything else in the world. There’s so much we want to tell you, but there isn’t enough time or enough words to say them all.”

“What we will say is that we never wanted you to be a normal boy; we love you as you are and as whoever you will be.” Lois finishes, getting on her knees to look her baby boy in the eyes. “We’ve done so much thinking that we were keeping you safe, but we’ve also made mistakes that you had to carry. That should never have happened.”

“I…” Jonathan begins to say, but can’t come up with the words he wants to say. “But… What about… I don’t… Huh?”

“I know our actions say otherwise, and you don’t have to forgive us,” Clark tells him with a determined gaze. “When you get out of there, and you will, we’ll begin to work together to make everything right again. What that looks like will be up to you.”

“This is a lot,” Jon says because he doesn’t have the time to absorb all this information at once but it feels important. “I love you too.”

Nightwing stumbles out of the portal with an armful of stuff Jonathan recognizes as snacks, blankets, and medicine bottles. “Where is he!? Can he hold things!?”

“No,” Batman grunts curtly. “Everything we tried to put on him phases through.”

Exasperatedly the younger man drops everything but the medication onto the ground and runs up to Jon. “Sorry for interrupting but can you try to hold something? At least these!”

The child blinks a few times before taking the bottle in his fingers. “He needs to take two, right?” Everyone in the room pauses as they watch Jonathan holding the bottle with little to no effort. “What? If I couldn’t touch things then how could I be standing on the floor or sit in chairs?”

“Can he take them back to the pocket dimension?” Superman questions, looking at his dark cowled companion.

In response, Batman turns to the sorceress who was busy chanting something in a language Jon has never heard of before. He looks back to the other man and says, “I doubt it, but Jonathan has surprised us before.”

Hesitantly, Jonathan tries to hold his mother’s hand but he can’t feel anything. “Aw…”

“It’s okay Sport, what matters is that we can now find you. We’ll get you and everyone else home in no time.” Jon’s father reassures.

“I can’t hold it up much longer!” Zatana shouts with her arms shaking from the strain of magic flowing through them.

“Hi again!” Jon greets happily. “Where’s the funny talking British man? The one that says bad words and wears a trenchcoat.”

“What?” Zatanna whispers, looking at the boy. “When did you meet Constantine?”

“The same time I met you here last time.” Jon elaborates with a raised brow. “You, the scruffy man, and Detective Chimp were all here when I came here last time-” He stops talking when he notices that the bar doesn’t quite look the same as it did before. It was definitely still a bar but it was themed as an old western saloon rather than a five-star hotel bar. “Oh… Ooooooooooooh no.” He looks at all the people around him and the medicine in his hands. “You’re… You’re my mom and dad?”

“Wh- Of course, we are Jon!” Lois gasps horrified at the question. “Jon it’s us.”

“Okay, just making sure.” He swallows a lump in his throat and turns to his dad. “Dad, I think I messed up again. Like, a lot.”

“Jon, it’s fine.”

“It’s not fine!” Jon shouts, clinging to the scarlet red cape of Superman. “I broke the universe! I made the crack that let Mister Mxyzptlk in!”

“And we’re very interested about how you can do that, but this isn’t your fault or something you’re allowed to dwell on right now.” Batman orders, typing vigorously on his wrist-mounted miniature computer. “Jonathan, we’re about to be pulled back in. Don’t die again, remember that you didn’t do this.”

“But-”

“Tell Damian and Tim we love them and to take care of themselves.” Nightwing pleads, pushing the orange pill bottle with a shaky finger. “And to stay safe.”

“Wait-”

“No matter what happened we’re proud of you Jon.” Clarks states with tears threatening to break from the corners of his eyes.

“I-”

“Barbra bought all the icecream Colin can eat when he gets home,” Nightwing adds.

“When you meet Chris and Conner tell them that we’re waiting for them.” Lois smiles, patting Jon on the head without touching him.

“I will!” Jon manages to get out as he fades from existence.

When Jonathan opens his eyes again he sees the white fluorescent light of the classroom invading his vision. Quickly, he uses the blue sleeve of his cotton jacket to cover his eyes and sit up. Jon checks his hands for Damian’s medicine but finds nothing there. “Dang it!”

**[TIME SUBTRACTED FROM CLOCK]**

“DANG IT!” He shouts again but louder.

“Ah, Jon. You took longer than I predicted.” Timothy tells him as Stephine sits him back up in his seat. “You didn’t miss much. I just did an exposition dump of everything we know so far that’s relevant.”

“Can I open my eyes yet or is his head still messed up?” Colin asks with his palms over his eyelids.

Jonathan pats his face repeatedly. “I’m okay!”

The fifth-grader sighs and opens his eyes. “It’s like the arm thing all over again.”

“Tim, what was that thing in the camera? How did it kill me if I have immunity to being hurt by y’all and invincibility?” Jon asks as he looks at the chalkboard with his writing erased and sees several new things are neatly written on it.

“You didn’t die, just got knocked out. The rule was we couldn’t kill each other but that said nothing about other forms of harm.”

“Oh.”

“And it was a mother box; It’s a leftover from the last world that doesn’t do anything anymore, but its shell is made up of stuff impervious to situations such as this and dense enough to hurt a Kryptonian.” The teenager explains with a sigh. “I put it into your camera because I knew you’d find yourself in a bind eventually. Mister Mxyzptlk created these worlds on what we already know and that includes all of the dangerous things.”

“Oh… So where is it?”

“He took it away,” Stephanie answers with a pout. “He told us we have to stop hurting you or else he’d make us all lose. Which- okay fair, but it’s hard to take a weird fairy man seriously when he sounds like Gilbert Gottfried.”

**[TIME SUBTRACTED FROM CLOCK]**

“Hey! Fuck you, you know I’m right!”

“Also he gave you double immunity now. I don’t know how that’s even a thing but you have it now.” Colin supplies, resting his cheek on the cool surface of the desk. “Can we move on? This is the worst world.”

“You remember the other worlds?” Jon presses, ears perking up at this new information. Jon only vaguely remembers his own and everything that happened after he became aware.

Colin releases all of the air in his lungs and takes in a deep breath. “I mean I don’t remember them well, but I know the gist of most of them.”

“Most?”

The redhead points at the board listing everything from the TV guide. “The last one. I don’t remember that one.”

Jon frowns and reads the board. “That’s Chris’s world.”

“Why is he even here? You said all the kids were taken and I’ve never seen a kid that looks like he can pay taxes.”

That’s a good point. Jon doesn’t know why Chris was taken in here if his wish was for all the kids to be here. By all accounts, Christopher of all people shouldn’t be here because Jon sees him as an adult who is of adult age. “That is kinda weird, but Tim is here too and he’s half an adult.”

“I'm going to choose not to be offended by that statement.” Tim sighs, putting his piece of chalk up to the board. “Instead I’m going to ask, what do you think an adult is?”

“People who are like… grown-up… Like old people who are sixteen and tell kids what to do.”

“Okay, then that leaves out Chris.” Tim chuckles and causes the three to simultaneously raise their brows at him. “Wait- holy shit… HE DIDN’T TELL YOU!? HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! O-Oh my god! He-That bastard didn’t tell anyone!?”

“What? What’s wrong? Is he like Conner where he doesn’t age?” Jon interrogates worryingly. 

“N-No, No!” The teen tries to calm himself down and forcefully coughs into his elbow. “No. His age fluctuates due to his unstable molecular composition because he was born in the Phantom Zone. That little shit is only thirteen!”

Jonathan… Jonathan doesn’t know how to feel about that. He will deal with the wave of emotions barreling at him for later because they have better things to be paying attention to. “I guess he is a kid. So what do we do now? Are we all on the same page now? What happened while I was dead?”

“Can you please not say it like that?” Colin begs, looking up at the ceiling.

“Sorry, I’ll stop.”

“I think we got the gist of it now.” The blonde teen encourages, nodding her head and leaning back dangerously far in her seat while popping her gum. “We liberate the oppressed-”

“Free the kids on the list.” Tim corrects.

“ _Liberate the oppressed_ while sticking to the genre so we don’t get sucked back in to try and beat the rigged timer while the entire multiverse is watching. Also, there’s some weird shit going on with you and Jon, I wasn’t paying attention.”

“You’re taking this well.” Colin notices.

She lazily rolls her neck back and kicks her feet on the desk. “Meh, this is the best thing to have ever happened to me, and I watch way too much sci-fi.”

“Now that we’re all on track and have the same baseline we can officially get started trying to free Conner. Colin, what do you remember about this show?” Pale blue eyes blankly look out into the distance as though he was having some kind of horrific flashback. “Colin, are you okay?”

“Before I forget, when I was at the other place Nightwing told me to tell you to be safe, take care of yourselves, and that Barbra bought Colin a lot of ice cream,” Jon informs Tim and Colin. “Also I might have broken the lock on the universe.”

“The what?” Tim asks.

“The lock on the universe separating us from everyone else.” The eight-year-old sighs. “Colin, are you okay?”

“I’m fine, I’m just trying to repress the trauma and it’s not working.” The redhead rubs the top of his head then vigorously shakes it before continuing to speak. “I didn’t spend too much time here, but when I did it was awful. It was stupid and useless and the worst possible world.”

“What’s so bad about it?”

“It’s a musical teen drama.” 

At the information, the two teenagers in the room gag violently while Jon sits at his desk perplexed. “That explains why we ended up in a classroom, but I don’t see the problem. I like music! I’m not good at singing or dancing or music, but it’s fun!”

“I never thought I’d be asking this, but can I go back to the sitcom?” Tim pleads with his hands clasped together in a praying motion.

“Don’t worry, you only get sucked into a musical number if you’re near the main character.” The boy comforts in the most unencouraging tone. “And there are no original songs.”

“We’re stuck in a jukebox musical! What sick fuck’s dream world is this!?” Stephanie cries, draping herself dramatically over her desk. “Teen dramas already suck, and this is a million times worse!”

“Okay gang, we can get through this.” Tim encourages with fragile confidence. “Two of us already had our come-to-Jon moments so we know what to do. We go in, survive, and have a brutally honest conversation about the flaws of one’s own persona and view of reality.”

“When did you get yours?” The girl in the purple hoodie questions, not remember him ever having a conversation with Jon.

“I had mine in the real world and it was fucking painful.” The other replies with a neutral expression. “But thanks to that, I’m not stuck.”

“Unless you get sucked into another world,” Colin announces pessimistically. “All this has taught me is that I need more friends other than Jon.”

“I thought Damian was your friend too.”

“He’s more of a partner in crime than a tried and true friend. He’s not awful but he needs to tone it down. Jon’s literally my only friend which is why I do all the crap I did for him.” He sighs and looks to his left. “Welp, I should have expected that. This isn’t my job anymore so I’m going to nope out. Stephanie, are you going to carry that duffle bag?”

“I don’t see why not. I might need it and whoever this belonged to probably isn’t real. Finders keepers. ” She says and watches Colin stuff himself inside the bag. “Uh… You okay?”

“I’m going to nap. You two can go look for Jon. Wake me up when you find him.”

“Wait-” Timothy snaps his head to where Jon should be sitting only to find the desk empty. “JON NO!”

“How did he sneak out, We’re all right here- YOU’RE ROBIN! HOW THE FUCK DIDN’T YOU NOTICE HIM!?” Stephanie screeches, hoisting the bag up and running out the classroom door.

“I DON’T KNOW! IF I DID IT WOULDN’T HAPPEN AGAIN!”

“THIS HAPPENED BEFORE!?!”

Jonathan Samuel Kent merely trotted along the hallways of the school and recognized some of the design patterns and colors in the architecture. Jon has never been to the older kids’ building but he sees that it’s not too different from the elementary school. He wasn’t looking forward to getting older if fewer decorations and color were what would greet him. There wasn’t even one single cut-out snowflake on the corkboard.

The small child burst out the side doors and ran over to the cafeteria building without pause or care for the hole he put through the glass. He walks into the building and up the glass stairs to his table where Damian was seated eating a pasta salad from his lunch box. “Hey, Dami!”

The fifth-grader intently studies Jonathan’s current state of dress while taking another bite of his meal. “Jonathan, why are you out of uniform?”

“Technically I’m in uniform.” The younger boy quips and tugs on his fiance’s biceps. “I’m going on an adventure, I want you to come with me.”

Damian takes another bite of his meal. “You want me to skip school?”

“Yes,” Jon responds expectantly. “That is exactly what I want.”

Emerald eyes stare into Jonathan’s soul like the Kryptonian was insane. “Jonathan, aren’t you always telling me that skipping school is bad?”

The younger boy nods. “And you keep telling me I’m a hypocrite, so we’re skipping and you can’t tell me you want to be here. I know for a fact that no matter what world we live in you think the school system is trash, and that we’re not learning anything useful like… I don’t know, how to clean a bloody crime scene?”

“Hydrogen peroxide.” Damian nods, standing from his seat and neatly cleaning up his box. “You can lead the way.”

“Yay! Thanks, Dami!” Jonathan cheers, pulling the older boy back to where Jon came from. “I know this is confusing and my words are being censored in your head due to some weird magic stuff, but it’s nice to have you near me. I mean, you spent all that time avoiding me so we don’t hang out as we used to which is sad. It makes me sad that you don’t need me as much as I need you. But that’s fine because if I don’t think about it too hard it doesn’t hurt- Ooooo swings!”

No kid could resist swings even if they were on a time limit. Playfully, Jonathan swings back and forth on the playground for a few seconds and Damian sat next to him with an uncharacteristically similar joyous grin. It didn’t look natural on the young Wayne boy because Damian’s smile always held an amount of bestial to quality to them. Kind pure smiles of childish innocence were either fake or forced, but maybe the life Damian remembers of this world made it so he could have innocent happy smiles.

The two swung on the swings harmoniously in silence before Jon broke it. “Hey Dami, are you happy?”

“Of course I am!” Damian chirps gleefully as he kicks his feet on the swing. “It’s an early recess! We never got to go on the swings because all the other kids were hogging it for themselves.”

They’ve never gone on the swings because Damian said it was stupid.

“R-right…” Jonathan agrees with a mildly dampened smile. “So… Um…” He nervously scrapes the heels of his feet into the wood chips below them. “About my brother- Conner.”

“What about him?”

“Do… Do you know where he is?”

Damian titters light-heartedly on the swings as he tries to recall where Jonathan’s brother is. “Didn’t you say he was busy decorating the gym for the high school dance?”

“I guess I did,” The hybrid agrees as he tries to change himself into this other Jon this Damian is familiar with. “But I forgot where it was. Can you show me where he is? I want to see him!”

“Sure thing!” The tan boy rapidly kicks his feet higher until the swing is far above the bar holding the chains. He flies off the leather seat and flips forward once before landing on his feet. “Ta-da! What do you think Jonathan- Hey, what’s wrong?”

Jonathan jolts in his seat and quickly fixes his melancholy expression, bundling up his sleeves into his hands and wiping his tears. “Sorry, I’ll- I’m… It’s nothing. You know me, I cry over everything. It doesn’t mean anything.”

“Are you sure?”

“Y-yeah. I’m fine.” He consoles unconvincingly and begins clapping softly. “That was so cool, Dami! You should teach me that sometime!”

“Sure…” He responds skeptically walking back to Jon and grabbing his hand. “Let’s go then!”

The two traverse along the campus and Jonathan was internally dying on the inside. This wasn’t his Damian. This Damian was- is someone that Jonathan in the past would love to be friends with. If this were a different person entirely then, Jon would still like to be friends, but it was Damian. A Damian with different memories and a different past.

Something inside him was crying at the thought, yet Jon doesn’t know why. He knows it makes him sad that this isn’t his Damian, but it was like something in his core was coming to a cruel realization and was screaming. Jon already knew this when he followed the boy’s heartbeat; he was prepared to meet a Damian that wasn’t his. He told himself that as long as it was Damian he’d take him along because he’s not leaving him behind.

“Here we are!” The fifth-grader announces with a proud grin and waves his hand over the front of the building.

Sky blue eyes gawk at the large building and Jon tells himself that he needs to stop being surprised about the school’s prosperity. Jonathan shakes himself out of his stupor and runs to the heavy metal doors. He tries to open them only to find them locked shut. He hears Damian sigh behind him and takes out his student ID to slide through the scanner. “Jonathan, are you sure you’re okay?”

“I’m fine!” Jon huffs as he hears the doors unlock. He pulls the handle once more and swings the door open. “So Dami, what do you know about Conner?”

“Not much other than he’s your brother.” Damian shrugs, straightening out his Egyptian blue blazer. “Is there something I should know?”

“Not really,” Jon says as he holds the door open for his fiance. “Hopefully we’ll get to Conner before Tim does.”

“Tim? Do you mean Drake?”

“Yeah, him.” Jonathan reaffirms as he hops on the tiled floor and smiles when his shoes squeak on the floor. “I never thought I’d be saying this but I kinda miss school. I miss my classmates and I miss hanging out with everyone at recess. I know you blew up the school- Oop!” Jon covers his mouth with his hands and looks around tensely. “I shouldn’t have said that. All the adults are watching and I don’t want to get you in trouble.”

“What?” Damian questions rather puzzled by the words coming out of the second-grader’s mouth.

“If anyone is listening to me, I made him do it! It was all me!” The boy shouts facing nothing in particular. “Where was I going with this?”

“You were talking about Drake for some reason.”

“Oh yeah, him. You don’t understand me right now so it should be okay to tell you.” Jon nods to himself and begins to hop up the staircase like a bunny. “We talked about it already, Tim and I, not you and me, and he knows that Conner isn’t Kon-El. He kept trying to use people to fix him instead of working on himself. That doesn’t mean he’s going to be okay being around him, so if I free Conner first Tim doesn’t have to feel bad.”

“Why would Drake feel uncomfortable being around your brother?” The older child questions.

“Because it’s weird being around someone you know but is also a stranger.” Jonathan elaborates and nearly stumbles backward on the top step of the stair. Damian catches him and holds him up on the floor. “Thanks!” He dusts himself off even though he doesn’t have any dust on him. “I think he has trouble separating Kon-El with Conner. Or at least he used to but just because he knows it now doesn’t mean it makes him feel better. It’s kinda like losing someone you love all over again. I don’t want him to spend too much time with Conner when he doesn’t have to, so I’ll save him first.”

“Save him from what?”

“Himself-” He begins to say when a melodic tune reaches his ears.

 _“_ _Ooh, ooh_

_Sittin' 'round wondering just what the hell to do with your life_

_Only get one chance but you seem to always think twice_

_And I'm getting so tired of trying to always be nice_

_You're sweet and sincere, but so ruled by fear”_

Jonathan runs to the source of the music and almost launches himself over the red metal railing of the second-floor track above the gym onto the basketball court below. Damian yanks him back by his scarlet cape so that he doesn’t plummet two stories down.

_“What do you want me to do?_

_Make all the big decisions for you?_

_'Cause I can't_

_Well I can't_

_I don't quite feel like faking it again tonight_

_Don't really feel like saying (everything is alright)_

_You're sweet and sincere, but so ruled by fear”_

In the middle of the beige flooring, a spotlight illuminates Conner who was wearing the West-Reeves Academy uniform. Jonathan cranes his neck up to see where the light is coming from and who’s moving it to find absolutely nothing. The light is magically following Jonathan’s older brother.

_“What do you want me to do?_

_Make all the big decisions for you?_

_What do you want me to do?_

_Make all the big decisions for you?_

_Well I can't_

_Well I can't”_

“We need to get down there,” Jonathan states, winching his leg over the steel bar and prepares to jump only to have strong arms wrap around his midsection and force him back.

“Jonathan, what do you think you’re doing?!”

“I’m going to Conner!”

“You’re going to hurt yourself or die!”

“No, I won’t!”

From the darkness bordering the light, several high schoolers begin to dance around the older half-Kryptonian in a perfect circle. Unphased by the appearance of people Jonathan doesn’t remember seeing before, Conner continues singing his song.

_“Go on do it_

_If you really, really mean it, oh_

_Don't just hold back then regret it_

_You're sweet and sincere, but so ruled by fear”_

Jon frees himself from Damian’s grip and stares at him confused. “Why do you think I can get hurt?”

“Why do I- Have you lost your mind!?” The billionaire’s son hollers over the music. “Anyone would get hurt if they jumped from this height! Do you believe yourself to be exonerated from the laws of physics?!”

“Yes.” Jon dumbly answers. “Yes, I am.”

“What!?”

_“What do you want me to do?_

_Make all the big decisions for you?_

_What do you want me to do?_

_Make all the big decisions for you?_

_Well I can't_

_Well I can't_

_Ooh, ooh_

_Ooh, ooh”_

The music begins to fade and Damian grabs him by the shell of his ear and drags him away from the railing and down another set of steps that lead directly to the end of the floor of the gym. The fluorescent lights of the gym came back on to reveal a gaggle of teenagers decorating and going about their business as though they didn’t just perform a musical number. The ten-year-old stomps up to Conner who was holding a ladder steady for a short auburn-haired teen throwing streamers through a basketball hoop. 

“Luthor!” Damian roars furiously, yanking Jonathan by the ear even harder somehow. Jon is very grateful he can’t feel pain anymore because he’s made his grandma mad enough times to know that an ear-pulling of this caliber is agony.

The teen lets go of the ladder to turn towards whoever said his name to see his little brother being hauled in his direction by his little friend. “Hey! Let go of Jon right now!”

“-Tt- I will once you talk some sense into him!” Damian counters, pulling even harder.

“Hi, Conner!” Jon greets with a wide smile.

Conner winces at the force being used on the eight-year-old and tries to pry the hand off him only to make it worse. “Hi, Jon. Care to explain what’s going on and why it looks like you’re both skipping class?”

“Something about Drake visiting for the dance and wanting to see you.” Damian answers and Jonathan sighs. “None of that is relevant. What matters is that Jonathan got it into his head that the laws of physics do not apply to him and that he can fall several stories without sustaining injuries.”

“Jon,” Conner exhales, looking over his little brother’s appearance. “Is that true?”

“I don’t see what the big deal is,” Jon confesses casually. “I’m invincible and I could even fly! I never flew before but I think I can if I try hard enough.”

Emerald eyes glare up at the younger half-Kryptonian who appears unperturbed. “Jonathan, you don’t have superpowers. Those aren’t real.” He snaps his head at Conner. “See, this is what I’m talking about. Jonathan is even out of uniform and wearing some bargain-bin superhero costume!”

“Hey!” Jon shouts, offended by the accusation. “My outfit is cool!”

“This is probably my fault.” Conner shakes his head in disbelief and kneels down to Jonathan’s height. “Jon, buddy, I know you love the superhero shows we watch together, but that doesn’t mean you can be one. That’s just for playing pretend.”

Jon’s eyes widen as he takes in this new information. He was currently in a world without superheroes or superpowers. What kind of messed-up terrible place is this? How do they fight supervillains if there are no heroes? Who is going to protect the world from alien invasions, the government? Ha! No. Wait-

“Is magic not real either?” The child innocently asks and he hears Damian groan from his right.

“Luthor, this is your fault so you better fix this!” Dami practically growls while harshly jabbing his index finger into the teen’s ribs.

“Holy cow, magic isn’t real…” Jonathan gasps and he stares at the floor in thought. How is it that a world that Conner created doesn’t have superheroes? Isn’t that what he wanted? He wanted to be a superhero just like their Dad, so why doesn’t his perfect world have Superman?

“Jon, listen to me,” Conner speaks to him in a gentle tone. “We can play superhero all you want when I come over this weekend, but right now you need to get back to class. I’m really busy right now and can’t deal with you and… this. Okay?”

“Can’t deal with me,” Jon repeats lethargically. He takes out his TV-Guide and reads over the summary for the episode before putting it back in his pocket. “I’m not important to you right now because you can’t say no to other people, but you can say no to me.”

Similar sky blue eyes widen and an embarrassed flush showers Conner’s face. “T-That is not what I meant!”

“So you didn’t join the basketball team and the school play while also accepting three invitations to the school dance by three different girls? Cause it sure looks like you did. I guess all that is more important than family to you.” Jonathan drones out without a hint of spite. He was speaking factually as though he was stating a math problem. “You sound bad at prioritizing.”

“Tha- I am not!” Conner retaliates, grabbing Jonathan’s other ear. “And it’s not what it- where did you hear all that? Who told you!?”

A malicious grin crakes Jonathan’s rosy and fair skin. “Do those girls even know about each other? They don’t, do they.”

“I didn’t-”

“I thought so.” The boy hums. “I wonder what they would say if I told them the truth?”

Conner pulls him forward and sternly whispers, “Don’t you even dare! What do you want!”

“Tim and Stephanie were right, this is kinda terrible,” Jon mutters to himself. He pats the ear being held by Damian and is instantly released. “Conner, you’re being--like, really dumb. If you like someone you should just tell them. If you have two things you want to do, pick one.”

“Jon-”

“If you can’t choose then flip a freaking coin.”

“It’s not that easy-”

“Yes, it is.” Jon glances at Damian. “Dami, is it hard?”

The fifth-grader, slightly amused at the events unfolding around him, shakes his head in agreement. “Jonathan is correct. Whatever you’re doing right now is convoluted at best and harmful at worst.”

“What he said.”

“Jon and… Damian?” Conner waits for confirmation and continues when the older boy nods his head. “You two don’t understand yet. When you get older things aren’t that easy and relationships are hard-”

“They are.” Jonathan agrees. “They’re a lot of work and won’t work unless both people put work into it, but you’re not in one. You’re having trouble getting into one. You’re hurting those girls’ feelings because they probably think they’re the only one you’re going out with. That’s a butt move. And about the school play and basketball team, I’m sure it doesn’t matter what you do. They probably don’t mind.”

“And if they do mind then quit both and set the building ablaze on your way out,” Damian adds.

The teenager lets go of Jonathan's ear and roll his eyes. “And what would you know about relationships, Mr. I-Suddenly-Know-Everything?”

“I don’t know everything.” Jon easily admits. “And I’m really bad at relationships but I’m in one and haven’t been dumped yet so I think I’m winning.”

Conner blinks several times at the second-grader before he explodes, jumping to his feet and knocking into the ladder behind him causing it to topple over. The boy on the top crashes to the floor in a frenzy of pink and blue party streamers. “Dude, what the fuck!?”

Jon leans over to see who it was and recognizes the boy as Impulse. It makes sense that the speedster got dragged into this too seeing as he related to the Flash. “Hi, Bart!”

The lanky teen merely groans in response as other students around them rush to his aid. Conner grabs Jonathan’s shoulders to face the boy towards him. “WHAT RELATIONSHIP!? WHEN DID YOU GET A GIRLFRIEND!? HOW LONG!?”

It’s Jonathan’s turn to blink wildly as he stares at his brother. Is he not dating Dami in this world? That’s a problem because Jonathan doesn’t want to go through this again.

“There is no girl you brainless pathetic excuse for a functioning human being.” Damian sighs, pinging the bridge of his nose in exasperation. “I’m right here.”

Oh thank God, Jonathan doesn’t have to go through any of that weird stuff again to get to this point in his relationship.

It seems like the answer doesn’t soothe Conner in the slightest as he looks both disturbed and shocked. “You’re gay!?”

There’s that word again. Jon heard someone call him “gay” at school before but he doesn’t know what that means. “I… what’s that?”

“Oh shit…” Conner cringes, looking around him and seeing the students around them staring at him. He likes attention, but not this kind. “Uuuuhhhh… Okay- I fucked up.”

“Is gay a bad thing?”

The teenager’s lightly tan skin becomes pale and he frantically shakes his head. “No, no, no, no, no, no, no! It’s not a bad thing- I just- Um…Congrats? When did you come out? N-Not that you have to but um… Does everyone else know?”

“Everyone knew. I think you’re the only one who didn’t.” Jon shrugs, still puzzled by his brother’s reaction. “You’re never around me long enough to be told.”

Conner deflates and shrinks within himself. “I… Oh. S-sorry about that.”

“It’s okay.” The child replies with a crestfallen smile, “I know you’re doing other things all the time. You’re too busy dealing with your stuff to care about mine like when you left home and never called.”

“When did I-”

“Even in this world, you don’t care enough about others!” Jonathan continues. “Not those fake girls, or Tim, or Lena, or anyone who’s not you. That’s just how you are and I think I’m used to it.”

“Jon- That’s not what-! I didn’t mean to- I just wanted-” Conner tries to speak but his words aren’t working; He can’t finish his sentences properly.

“I know what you wanted; you wanted to be free.” Jon sympathizes with him and hugs the taller male’s thighs. “You ran away because it’s too hard to talk to adults about what you want without blowing up. You don’t think they’ll listen or take you seriously. I don’t blame you for leaving, but it still hurts that you did.”

“I- just wanted a life…” Conner whimpers, wrapping his arms around himself. “I never wanted to hurt anyone, not even Dad… I just wanted to be free.”

“So did I.” The little boy agrees, holding him tighter. “That’s why I wished for this, but I don’t know what freedom means. I don’t think you know either.”

“I just wanted to go outside and be a part of something-”

“Kon!” A juvenile voice cheers and knocks into them, separating the two brothers in a rush of unnaturally yellow-blonde hair. “Kon, you said you’d come to visit me during recess and you weren’t there!”

Jonathan, who was rammed onto the cold finished-wood flooring, looks up to see Lena Luthor embracing their brother where Jon used to be. “Lena?”

“Jonny! What are you doing here? You know I have Conner on weekdays!” The kindergartener huffs.

“I… What?”

“Calm down you two,” Conner orders, seemingly back to how he was before, and Jon mentally kicks himself. He was so close to getting through to him before Lena showed up! “There’s enough of me to go around.”

“Apparently too much.” Damian scoffs, crossing his arms. “There’s still the problem of your commitment issues.”

The older boy shudders at the reminder and pulls the six-year-old off of him. “I should probably fix that. I can’t have a little brother who’s disappointed in me.”

“Conner, what about me!” Lena whines, tugging on his uniform jacket.

The teen walks backward to the doors with his hands clasped together. “I’m so sorry Lena, I’ll be right back but I got to take care of some stuff first. You can play with Jon until I get back!”

With that, the teenager sprints out of the gymnasium to who knows where. The three children awkwardly stay still for a couple of moments, not knowing what to do. Slowly, Jonathan stands up and puts a hand on the younger girl’s shoulder. “Hey Lena, sorry about taking up your time with-”

His hand is violently slapped off and neon green eyes shoot daggers into him. “Kent.” She spits as though his last name was poison.

“I- I didn’t know what this was your time-”

“We had a deal.” She hisses and grabs him by the cape. “You’re coming with me.”

“Okay?” Jonathan concedes as he’s once again dragged to a different location. 

At least he’s not being grabbed by the ear again. Damian follows them as though this type of situation was normal and for all Jonathan knew this could be normal in this world. She pulls them out into the hall and Jon doesn’t think that following along and doing nothing is a good idea so he tries to see how far Lena is in the illusion. 

“Sooooooo, Lena,” The Kryptonian starts as normally as he can. “Um… How are things? How’s life-”

“Shut up, Kent,” Lena demands bossily.

Some things never change and Jon isn’t sure what he was expecting from the girl he shares a brother with. Jon examines the young girl and sees that even in a world supposedly without powers she still wraps her head to cover her forehead. Was it a habit or was she hiding something else?

They enter a tiny classroom filled with yoga mats and once inside, Lena closes the door behind them. “How long have you been awake?”

Jon stares at her for approximately two seconds before bursting forth with joy. “You know?!”

The little girl huffs and puts a haughty hand on her hip. “I knew the second I saw you with that Superman jacket on.” She deduces. “There is no Superman in this world so the fact you’re wearing something that doesn’t exist is enough evidence that something is up and I want to know.”

“This is great!” Jonathan cheers, throwing his arms up in the air. “I can’t explain everything because we’re on a timer that I can’t see, but I have to make everyone remember the real world and we can all go home!”

“By everyone do you mean every person in the whole world or-”

“No, that’s too much. I just mean a few people like Conner and Dami and Kathy and Chri-”

“Alright, does that mean your boy toy is aware of the state of the world too?”

Jon dejectedly shakes his head. “No, Dami is still stuck. Watch this,” He looks at his boyfriend with tired eyes. “Dami, are you even paying attention?”

“I don’t see why I have to make note of Luthor and yours’ unofficial sibling custody arrangement. This is a quarrel that has long since gotten old.” Damian answers, leaning his back on the wooden door.

The younger boy turns back to the girl expectantly. “See?”

“I see.” She acknowledges with prominent interest. “That also means he’s completely useless. No training, no weapons, and no way to understand the gravity of the situation.”

“That’s a bit much, but I guess that’s true.” Jon pouts, puffing his cheeks at her arrogantly rude tone. “But that doesn’t matter! Now that you know, you can help us free Conner and get everything back to normal!”

Lena bows her head and reaches into her uniform pocket and reveals pink wireless earbuds. “Alright then, I’ll help but I don’t know how useful I’ll be. My powers in this world have been taken away so I won’t be much help. I tried to make communicators with my limited knowledge of robotics, however, I can’t get them to work properly. What do you have, Kent?”

“I think I have all my powers and some new ones too!” Jon informs her and turns his head to blow air out of his lungs harshly. Instantly a chunk of ice materializes in the space and Jon catches it in his hands. “I have ice powers now, but I can’t control it. My heat vision is also really bad.”

“Obviously.” Lena scoffs, tossing him one of the pink buds. “Is there anything else I should know? How many people are we working with on this team?”

“Um…” Jonathan rattles his brain around in his head for answers as he puts the device in his ear. “There’s me, Tim, Colin, and Stephaine. So that’s four people and I think only Colin has powers. Tim is Robin so that’s almost a power, and Stephanie is a normal girl… I think… Probably.”

“Then it’s going to be two verse three. That seems fair.” Lena remarks, putting the other bud in her own ear. “Especially with a Kryptonian at my command.”

Immediately Jonathan tries to toss the technology out of his ear but his hand freezes mere inches from his face. His body is completely paralyzed and he glares at the six-year-old with red hot eyes. “LENA!”

The kindergartener laughs at him and flicks him between the eyes. “Hahahahahahahaha! I can’t believe you fell for that. I wasn’t even trying to be subtle but the little naive farm boy is too trusting.”

“Lena, do you want us to be stuck here forever!?” Jonathan hollers, arms shaking with effort as he fights his own body for control. “What about your dad? The outside world-”

“Kent, I don’t care.” Lena interrupts callously. “Sure I miss my Daddy, but here Kon is home where he belongs. He gets to live the life he wants here, and you’re asking me, his loving big sister, to take that away from him?”

“Don’t act like you’re doing this for him you little brat!” The second-grader growls, the red of his iris melting into the whites of his eyes. “You just want to keep him here for yourself!”

Lena nods her head in agreement without a single care in the world. “What can I say, I get the best of both worlds this way. Don’t be so mad Jonny boy, you knew I wasn’t a nice girl.”

“I thought you were at least a decent person!” 

“Your mistake then.” She shrugs, taking off her hot pink headband to reveal the circuits on her head. “It’s not like anyone is getting hurt by us staying in here. If anything, you’re the one causing trouble by trying to shake everything up.”

“And being trapped in some fake world is any better!?”

“Yes.” She answers boastfully, flipping her long hair.

Jonathan growls deep within his throat. “You’re not going to get away with this!”

“I will.” She quips confidently with no room for doubt. “I wasn’t lying, I didn’t have my powers until recently when I became aware of what was going on. Once I woke up, I got them back. That means that the only person with a chance to know you’ve been compromised has no idea what’s going on and no ability to stop me.”

**[TIME ADDED TO CLOCK]**

“Really!? NOW?!” Jon screams in frustration.

“Oh, we can’t have that.” Lena scolds, “I can’t have this running longer than it needs to. I don’t know how this works but I need to put an end to this quickly.”

Finally, Jonathan’s eyes burn with the heat of a thousand suns and Lena barely dodges the incoming ray of pure energy shooting at her head. “LENA!!! WHEN I GET OUT OF THIS I’LL MAKE YOU PAY-”

“Ooh, Kent finally has a backbone.” She teases, and forces Jonathan’s to stand at attention with his arms at his side. His infuriated expression contorts unnaturally until it becomes an innocent beam and his blue eyes return to normal. “Too bad it’s not enough.”

Jonathan turns around to face Damian, who was watching the scene with an undisturbed expression. He was so unbothered he’s currently checking his nails for grime. Lena sighs content with her work and walks to the door, but not without acknowledging the fifth-grader.

“Jonathan, are you and Luthor done already?”

“Aww, you poor thing.” Lena coos, pinching the taller boy’s cheek degradingly. “Al-Ghul, Wayne, or whatever you are anymore it doesn’t matter because you’re now a useless broken tool. Looks like you won’t come to your little boyfriend’s aid this time. It’s almost enough to bring a tear to my eye.” She taps the corners of her eye and makes a show of checking it. “Nope, still dry. Hahahahah!”

She begins to confidently saunter away with her hands behind her back and Jonathan at her heels when an arm tightly grips her wrist. The force of it causes her to grimace and scowl at the tanned child. “What? Did teasing you make you come to your senses? If so, I bet Jonny boy is kicking himself for not trying it early. He seems like the kind of boy to try preaching an over-emotional speech about his dumb feelings and the power of your love to win you over.” Radioactive eyes scan his person unimpressively. “Though, that clearly didn’t work out for him.”

“Where are you two going?” Damian interrogates distrustfully, warily eyeing Jonathan who is simply following the blonde girl.

“You don’t need to know, this is a family matter.” The little girl scoffs and skillfully puts back her headband and puts her incredibly long hair in a tight bun. “Go draw on the benches like you always do.”

“You didn’t answer my question.”

“Urgh, you don’t need to know. If you stop interrupting me, you’ll have Jon back by tomorrow and you’ll never even know anything happened. You won’t even miss him.” She whines, ripping herself free from the hold. “Now leave us alone, you useless waste of space! You broken tool, you powerless freak, you puppet without a master, you worthless protector! How many different ways must I say it, leave me alone!” She stomps away as emerald eyes stare at her, shocked by the outburst. “You’re so pathetic, even Kent of all people awoke before you did.”

Jonathan and Lena leave the room and rapidly disappear into the brightly lit hallways towards the exit leaving Damian alone. The door closes in the yoga studio and the fifth-grader tries to decipher what he was told. He knew the words were meant to insult him but he… he can’t remember what Lena said. It was like her voice sounded as though it was traveling through water. The young boy feels as though something wasn’t right, but… why? Now that he thinks about it Jonathan has been acting rather odd all day. Jon has always been an odd boy, but he’s been acting as though he had powers and is suddenly more insightful when it comes to his brother’s problems.

“Wait…” Damian looks around him and doesn’t recognize where he was. “No, I… Am I in school?” He sticks his head out of the hallway and recognizes the brick-and-mortar style of construction. “I’m in school. There should at least be a few more weeks before this place is even standing after what I did to it…”

The ruckus of glass splintering breaks him away from the hall and back into the classroom to see a strange teenage blonde girl banging on the window of the studio. Without any thought, he walks over to the broken window pane and stares at the purple-dressed female. It’s apparent she’s not a student of this establishment if the lack of uniform and a thin layer of dirt over her clothes were anything to go by. 

“Hey, you- Jon’s boyfriend! Open the window!” She demands, still trying to use the sole of her feet to break the glass.

Now that Damian is paying more attention he notices two perfectly eye-level holes burned through the window. “What’s going on?”

The girl’s black duffle bag shuffles around and out pops a mop of familiar red hair. “Did you find Jon yet?”

“I’m close! Frickin lasers just shoot out at me through here and I see his boyfriend! He has to be close!”

The drowsy freckled face turns to Damian who is just standing there with a confused expression on his face. “Dude, is Jon here or not?”

“He just left with Luthor.” He tells them hesitantly, pointing towards the exit. “Can you tell me what’s going on?”

“Jon pulled a Jon again.” Colin shrugs as though that explained everything and in a weird way it does.

The frizzy-haired blonde girl gives Damian a reassuring thumbs up and a bright grin. “Thanks, kid! When we get to your world and save you, I’ll make sure to give you a lollipop or something!” She turns around swiftly, causing the bag at her shoulder to whirl into the window, and cups her hands over her mouth. “TIM, HE’S HEADED THIS WAY!”

“WHY!?” Damian hears the voice of Drake wail maddeningly.

“I don’t know but he must have done something to get more time!”

**[TIME ADDED TO CLOCK]**

“What is that!” Damian shouts as bulky letters flash in his vision.

Colin, who was rubbing his head after being slammed into a cracked window, gawks at him as he was the only one paying attention. “You- Can you see those?”

“What are you talking about?!” The boy shouts as Timothy catches up to them.

“I was trained by Batman and Lady Shiva, yet you somehow ran freaking laps around me while carrying a child! HOW!?” The lean teenager pants, holding his knees as he catches his breath.

“Maybe it’s cause I don’t complain like a little bitch.”

“Father allowed you to train under Lady Shiva?” Damian snorts in disbelief.

Tim similarly gapes at him like the fifth-grader in the sack then instantly straightens himself. He looks at the scene inside the room, studying his surroundings and examining the state Damian’s in. He mumbles an illegible murmur under his breath as he walks up to the broken glass that’s still somehow in the frame.

“Our therapist is gonna kill me.” He breathes and looks at Damian. “You're a failure.”

“Wha-” Damian gasps, not understanding what’s going on.

“Did I stutter? Do I need to say it in a language you understand?” He asks in a rhetorical manner as he glowers at Damian much in the same way his grandfather did when Damian didn’t listen. “我唯一了解的事情就是你失败了.”

“Stop it!” Damian shouts, banging his fists on the glass and cutting the sides of his fists

“أنا زعيم هذه الفرقة، لذا استمعوا.” Tim coldly repeats, looking down at him. “لقد فشلت في.”

“SHUT UP!” He pounds on the glass again.

“あなたは約束をし、それを守ることができませんでした。あなたは彼を安全に保たなかった。あなたは弱い” Tim continues saying, cutting Damian deeper emotionally with each change of language. “Jonathan estaba aquí y lo dejaste escapar. Allez-vous continuer à être ignorant ou faire quelque chose à ce sujet? How many different languages do I have to ask until you get it? You might have all day but we’re on a time limit, Demon Brat.”

“Like, I totally don’t know what you’re saying, but you should take it easy on him.” The stranger carrying Colin tells Tim, tugging on his arm. “Let’s just go get Jon and worry about him later.”

“You’re right, it's useless to waste more time on him. We can protect Jon on our own.” The fifteen-year-old agrees, turning his heels. Secretly he looks at Stephanie and whispers, “Stand back and don’t try to save me.”

The girl holds Colin closer to her person and takes two large steps away. The action was thankfully in the knick of time as the window shatters and a small figure tackles the taller teen into the grass. The child, with two shards of jagged glass in bloody hands, immediately tries to stab his older brother in the face.

The two boys fight on the ground as neither of them holds back their punches. Thanks to the temporary immunity, neither Wayne can sustain any injuries other than minor cuts or bruises. Even those heal instantly and because of this the two eventually are at a standstill. That doesn’t mean either of the boys is humble enough to be the first to stand down. The older of two brothers, while not as well trained as the born assassin, is skilled and experienced enough to know how to immobilize Damian for a few seconds to get some words in.

With mild difficulty, Tim holds the arms at bay and smirks at the boy. “Welcome back, Hellspawn.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Song: Big Decisions by My Morning Jacket  
> (Potential spoilers?)  
> Now, I know what some of you may be thinking, "Wait, you're freeing Damian now? Why?"  
> Well, readers, I have plans and those plans involve forcing this child to confront his world completely cognizant of what's going on. Do you think I'd miss an opportunity to make this boy suffer? If you did think so then you clearly haven't been reading this fic and somehow skipped to this chapter on accident.  
> (Potential spoiler over?)
> 
> So today we learned a lot of things. How you feel about this is up to y'all. I'm tired, I haven't edited well (I am my own worst Beta), and it's raining cats and dogs outside rn. Thank you for reading and I'll see you guys next chapter. I hoped you like this chapter and would love to hear your thoughts (Though you don't have to if you don't want to.)
> 
> Next Chapter: Jonathan Samuel Kent VS The World (Gang)!


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